Imagine That...

Another Argument For Stain Resistant Carpet

It was finals week, fall semester of my sophomore year and I had been awake, studying for days. I think the good folks of the Florida State University administration had scheduled like three exams on one day or something mind-numbingly outrageous like that. Once I completed them, I had one exam left the next morning, then I would be through and could get some sleep. Finally.

My last exam was for a class titled Basic Textiles, where I learned all about the qualities of different fibers, the multitude of different processes by which each was manufactured or harvested, and the combinations of each that could be created to produce fabrics. The course was offered out of the Fashion Design and Marketing Dept., and I was taking it because it was a prerequisite for my major - Interior Design. I think that we were required to endure the class because exactly one day out of the entire semester was dedicated to the subject of carpeting. Either way, I got a kick out of being the guy who could randomly approach someone and correctly identify what fabric or combination of fabrics they were wearing. In retrospect, I am amused by how the non-sequitor would  freak out whatever victim would allow me to verify their shirt collar tag for the exact content percentages LESS than the fact that cotton/poly blends actually mattered to me at all.

Anyway, my exam was at 8am the next morning and I went to bed after cramming into my brain any last tid-bit of now useless information I could fit. I prepared the machine to brew what would be an absolutely necessary cup of coffee, set the alarm for 7am, and collapsed onto my dorm-issue mattress.

I woke up to the sound of my alarm as planned, however, I had also slept through it for an hour and a half!!! Meaning - I had basically SLEPT THROUGH MY EXAM. I had never done anything like it before and really had no idea what to do. I had a few minutes to at least think about it because it dawned on me that since the exam started at 8am and it was now 8:35 that I couldn't just haul ass over to the lecture hall and barge in and expect to take the test. First of all, it was unthinkable to do such a thing in a class of 150-200 people - you know I'm not one to purposely embarrass myself. Secondly, I realized that each exam was only alloted an hour and fifteen minutes and if I actually did go to the lecture hall and beg to take it then-and-there that I would not have enough time to finish the test.

So, I took a much needed shower, put on my most responsible-looking khaki shorts, poured a fresh cup of coffee into my portable mug, and booked it across campus to my professor's office in the newly renovated Sandels Building. Having never visited (let's call her) Dr. Grissbaum in her office before, it took a few minutes to find it down the hall from the Fashion Design Department's mock runway platform. Even though her class met three times a week for fifty minutes that semester, personal interactions between my professor and I had been few and far between. Thus, I wondered if she would even recognize me as I stood there outside her locked office door briefly awaiting her arrival.

Before long, I noticed the form of a large, bulging figure waddling in my direction. She was wearing an outfit of miniature plaids accented by jarring bold colored trim. I always thought it was a fascinating twist that the woman held both a tenured professorship in FASHION DESIGN and a personal level of taste that would make Project Runway's Tim Gunn cringe. Of course, this was way back in 1999. Bravo Network was famous, not for it's reality fashion show, but merely for Will Ferrell's impersonations of James Lipton and the world as we knew it was far less fashion savvy. But still!

I confronted Dr. Grissbaum in the corridor several yards away from her office. In a somewhat frantic manner, I apologetically explained what had happened. A part of me completely expected her to dismiss me as she struggled to unlock her door.

"Away with you! Why should I take pity on you and your inability to wake up on time to make my exam?!" - I imagined. After all, it was my fault. However, her response was entirely the contrary. As it turned out, she was in fact, a completely reasonable human being.

"Oh dear," she smiled, "these things happen. Why don't you sit at my desk and take it now while I grade your classmates' exams."

"Really?"

I was absolutely floored by her magnanimous offer. I set my travel mug on her desk beside the ten page multiple choice exam that was soon laid out before me and graciously accepted. I proceeded diligently and about forty-five minutes later I had wrapped things up.

"Alright," I said, "I think I about done," handing her the packet and associated standard commission bubble sheet.

"I'll take that," she said.

"Thank you again for allowing me to take it. I really appreciate it," I exclaimed, looking into her eyes as I strapped on my backpack.

"Oh no problem. Good luck on all your other exams."

I leaned forward to shake her hand, "It was a pleasure to be in your class."

And then it happened - I turned around swiftly to leave and accidentally knocked my coffee cup off her desk, allowing the contents to form a dark, caffinated pond in the middle of newly laid carpeting. We exchanged a brief meaningful dialog with our eyes - jaws dropped, before I bolted toward the bathroom (wherever that was) to clean it up.  Unfortunately, I went to a state school which happened to provide only the inexpensive and useless type of paper towels. As I furiously struggled to soak up my mess, a handful of paper towels deteriorated in my fingers and I managed to provide a weak consolation:

"Well, it's a good thing these carpet fibers are...um, hydrophobic," I stated, hoping my identification of their synthetic characteristics would prove just how much I learned that semester and soften the audacious clumsiness. I pretty well fled the scene after that.

The irony of this incident is that I spared myself the embarrassment of making a scene in front of my peers by interrupting an exam-in-progress, and traded it for a chance to be mortified in front of a professor I would never see again. I would say this worked out in my favor.

It's worth mentioning as I just chiseled this crude blunder into my blog to be experienced right here on the World Wide Web in perpetuity - that this was also my only perfect 4.o semester (no inconvenient A minuses to muck up the GPA.) I might have a reputation for exhibiting unabashed inelegance, but I will have you know that I still made the Dean's List.

Statement of Purpose - Draft

Alright, I just spent the better part of today organizing my thoughts for the required "Statement of Purpose" or "Letter of Intent" (as it is occasionally called) for grad school applications. The purpose of these essays is to allow you to clearly express your hopes and dreams for the future to each grad school of your choice in approx. 750 words, while effectively soliciting your candidacy to their admissions committee. Generally they appreciate your inclusion of the following criteria:

• your purpose in graduate study
• the area in particular in which you specialize
• the intended future use of your graduate study
• your special preparation and fitness for study in that field
• an explanation of any problems or inconsistencies that appear in your record
• should contain information about you that renders you unique from other applicants

It would be particularly helpful in any feedback that you let me know how I come across. For example, I am concerned that I might be considered condescending in the first paragraph. There are other points that I express that I fear might lead reviewers to conclude that I am not open minded to new ideas. Being pegged as "incapable of benefiting from instruction" is simply not what we're striving for here. I also have a tendency to be too vague.

Also, any vigilance you are willing to provide in regards to the following common flaws found in these statements would also go far in assisting me through this process:

• it should be objective, yet self-revelatory
• it should form conclusions that expand on the value and meaning of personal experience
• avoid a catalog of achievements
• it should get to the point early and get the attention of the reader
• it should be an example of careful persuasive writing
• conclusions should be documented with specific incidences
• the inclusion of awkward sentences - anyone who reads this blog regularly should be familiar with these

Just to satiate anyone's curiosity, the schools I'm looking at are my first choice, the hub of the counter culture revolution, located in a nice part of a disdained city, columns, columns, everywhere!, my least favorite, and a serious long shot.

Please leave comments - you know where...

I have never had the desire to become a great architect. Instead, I strive to become great at everything I wish to achieve, therefore allowing greatness to transcend into all aspects of who I am. With this philosophy intact, I believe that as my purpose in life unfolds, I will be a success. I have chosen architecture in which to excel at, because I understand that as a designer, I have an opportunity to evoke change through reinterpretation of human interaction with the built environment. Throughout my education, I have focused on sustainable design, minimizing human impact, and cultivating awareness. It is my intention to further engage this study at <insert name of institution here> in the M.Arch program. I look forward to continuing my education at an institution that is setting a precedent for environmental and social responsibility (OR excellence in design).

Assisted by an undergraduate degree in interior design from Florida State, I have a comprehensive understanding of the relationship between interior and exterior space. I have a firm background in spatial organization and planning, product specification, lighting & custom design detailing, drawing contract documents, hand drafting and Auto-Cad with 3/D, drawing & rendering, and model making.

During my apprenticeship at the Frank Lloyd Wright School of Architecture, I successfully learned to integrate a multitude of educational opportunities into an independent study of architecture. These studies included extended design projects with programs of my own fruition, a solution for sustainable waste water management at Taliesin West, presentation as performance, master planning, preservation theory, and participation in classes for the allied arts. Guided by faculty mentors, I created a unique, individualized education in an unconventional environment for learning.

Apprentices in the FLLWSA are members of the Taliesin Fellowship, a community rooted in Wright’s philosophy of Organic Architecture. I served in various aspects of community support maintenance and administered the organic vegetable garden, in addition to my educational initiatives. Additionally, I took full advantage of many hands-on construction projects at Taliesin West, assisting fellow apprentices in building personal desert shelters and serving on a preservation team in Wisconsin to rebuild a roof section of the prolific Taliesin complex.

Due to the unfortunate plague of political unrest perpetuating within the FLLW Foundation, I made the difficult decision to resign from the FLLWSA after a year without completing my M.Arch degree. Despite this, I fervently believe that it was a defining experience in my life that I will cherish forever. By cultivating an understanding of Wright’s philosophy, I further refined an intimate relationship with an architectural luminary. I obtained a unique perspective for approaching design by deepening my comprehension of the profound inherent connection between all things at all times and on all levels of existence. Because of the alternative nature of the FLLWSA educational program, I am not seeking transferred credit. Instead, I have included my transcript as a comprehensive list for your consideration of the activities that made my experience there distinctive.

Currently I am benefiting from a full time internship with Lake|Flato, a high profile firm in San Antonio that was recently awarded “AIA Firm of the Year”. Since starting, I have already delighted in a wide range of activity germane to an understanding of how a successful architecture practice operates. I am supervised by talented individuals that oversee my participation on a modicum of projects. In my first month I compiled a series of research booklets to assist in a design charette for a mixed-use urban renewal master plan. Most recently, I have been immersed in the nascent stages of a design for a nature center addition and renovation in Maryland. Continuing into the spring, I will be taking part in the completion of this project’s construction documents. This will allow me to delve into all the various stages of its design process. I am especially eager to participate in the research for the project’s LEED certification.

It is undoubtedly plausible to foresee for the future social trends shifting towards a more peaceful coexistence between man and nature. I have it in mind to one day lead architectural enterprises with a firm of like-minded individuals geared in this direction. It is my dream to integrate a core group of specialists from related disciplines (i.e. design, construction, ecology, landscape architecture, regional planning); the goal being to develop and promote a model for community-oriented living with an emphasis in environmental sustainability.

With my related undergraduate degree at FSU, a year of intense study at FLLWSA, and a varying spectrum of professional design internships, I feel that my experience could merit my candidacy the esteemed consideration of the admissions committee. I have the tenacity, self-motivation, and positive attitude necessary to see my dream of becoming a socially conscious architect manifest itself into reality. I know that <insert name of institution here> can augment my abilities as an aspiring architect, and propel me to reach my goal of making the world a better place. I still have so much to learn and would very much like to embrace the educational experiences offered at <insert name of institution here>.

The Great Ridiculous Exam

Today I bought a GRE Study Book.

Its big. It contains alot of words in the overwhelmingly vast vocabulary section where at least one of which would probably be far better suited to appropriately describe how big it is, but cut me a break - I just bought it.

If it hasn't become blatantly clear already, I have decided to take the Graduate Records Exam.

Wheeeeeee.

Not buying my enthusiasm? Well... alright you got me. I am a tad begrudged by the ominous task of unsympathetic standardized test taking.

"The GRE definitely does NOT measure your intelligence, nor does it measure how well you will perform in graduate school. The sooner you accept this, the better off you'll be. Despite what <the Educational Testing Service> says or what admissions officers think, the GRE is less a measure of your intelligence than it is a measure of your ability to take the GRE."

That is Lesson 1 from the Princeton Review GRE Guide. Essentially - I will be taking a test that determines nothing about who I am. Its wretched purpose is to make me (and countless other unfortunate souls) jump through hoops, spend more money than I have to do so, all the while devoting all of my free time expanding my vocabulary and re-learning how to multiply numbers because actually remembering what 6 x's 9 is has had no practical application in my life since fifth grade, thank you very much Mr. Calculator. My point is this (and here is where I get really cynical, folks): is there not a more effective way to prepare myself for graduate school? (Because you know, getting my masters degree is virtually meaningless aside from all the hoops I'll learn to jump through and perhaps all that extra theoretical stuff I might learn about architecture that has no practical application in the real world. Its just a requisite to be granted licensure. However, this is an entirely different woe.)

I would be lying if I've said this is my first time in Adventures with the GRE. I took it my senior year at Florida State and it was not one of the more positive experiences I've had, hence the remnant cynicism.

Way back in the Fall of 2001, I was on the threshold of a new beginning. I had the intention then of going to grad school for museum studies. A Master's in Museum Studies! Its still fun to imagine in my own mind what this would have entitled me to: a lifestyle as lavish as an interior designer, intriguing work, and the justification that my efforts would assist people in seeing, experiencing, and/or educating folks about art. I would be validated by making the world a little better.

This was important to me because along with everyone else I knew, I had recently been swept up into post-September 11th world of great fear and uncertainty. I had realized my current degree program (interior design) would only propagate the ideals of the very wealthy which was beginning to feel toxic. I needed to make an actual difference. I needed to give to the greater good. I was going to go to graduate school and solve the world's problems by being a museum curator or an exhibit designer or something... I was so noble and big hearted. And big headed too, yeah.

Anyway, I consulted with my friends and advisors and decided to apply to three schools. My decision had been based on three criteria: location, location, location. I chose Univ. of Washington in Seattle, Univ. of CO in Boulder, and the long shot - Columbia. I registered to take the GRE on John Lennon’s birthday for good luck.

However, due to a variety of reasons, the day before I took the GRE was the first time I thought about it in a while. I went to the library and took a practice test or two. I went to bed early only to be woken up repeatedly by my roommate's sneakers rotating in the dryer on the other side of the wall from my bed.

I had the attitude while driving very groggy-eyed to the testing center at 7am the next morning that the GRE is a vicious test and rightfully believed that it was no way of determining what I knew about anything. I was bitter that all the strategies I had learned in standardized test taking for SAT's, etc., in high school were obsolete even though the test questions are similar.

For those of you unaware, the GRE is conducted on the computer, alternating between numerous math, verbal, and analytical skill sections. This situation forces you to answer every question as it is given, unlike the bubble sheet skip about option for the SAT. The utter brilliance in this is so in answering a question correctly, the next one will be more difficult and in answering one incorrectly the test gets a bit easier and so on. Thus, I knew I wasn't faring too hot when on the analogy section, a question I distinctly recall was "Green:Grass; Blue:_______."Hmmmmm. One syllable words...not looking so good.

The one advantage to the computer test is that you receive your results immediately. Despite my disappointment in not doing as well as I really needed to in order to get into Columbia, the clerk reassured "Don't worry, you did alot better than most people do."

Despite her encouragement, I did not get into grad school like I had hoped that time. Though they clearly were not good enough, I held my GRE scores responsible when I really should have blamed a sever lack of research and persistence with the schools of my choosing, smoking too much pot, or even a blind faith that the universe would simply unravel in my favor.

Things have changed and I am certainly far more assertive than I was back then. I won't procrastinate studying like I did last time because of an abundance of school work, wallowing in the nightmare that was September 11th, and I haven't smoked pot in lets see, 10 months now. Alright!

Though the state of our world is no better off (if not worse), I have learned my lesson and I really need to take this test seriously. It was recommended by a friend that I buy the Princeton Review guide because it is arranged for an optional 4-week study plan.

I don't have alot of time here folks. Applications and scores are due mid-Januaryish. An individual can only take the test once in any given calendar month. This gives me late October (or maybe early December if I need to take it again, but we aren't even going to put that out in the universe) to shoot for. I feel a little late in the game here, but I know I can memorize a shit ton of vocabulary, grease my rusty math making magic, and write a hell of an analytical essay.

For real - I'm going to rock this test! (Hey, I think that was genuine enthusiasm there.) The admissions committee at UT-Austin's School of Architecture better brace themselves...

Sucked in!

One of the things I find fascinating about the four years I spent at Florida State University - circa 1998-2002 - was that in this short period of time, I watched the world change.

During my freshman year I remember complaining with my dormmates about the horrendous fees required to make long distant calls from our rooms. I recall actually purchasing an answering machine. I remember that people actually remembered phone numbers for their friends. But most of all I remember a world where no one could be reached when they were out. Amazing! This world existed in the very not too distant past. Looking back, I was rather fond of this world.

A year or so later, there was quite a noticeable shift. I ran into a friend at a coffeehouse I frequented in a drab, smoky basement beneath a club. We got to catching up. She said something I thought was unusual for someone I associated with to say.

"Guess what? I got a cellphone!"

This was odd because I always thought the very idea of cellphones were kind of silly. And in no way did I ever think that anyone of my peers could be considered important enough to actually need one like, say doctors or lawyers and other folks with fancy schmancy jobs that young college students were only aspiring to be at that age.

However I was rather intrigued by the "great deal" it was. She had free long distance after 10pm to call anyone she wanted for as long as she liked? And then she offered to let me call someone. Given all the possibilities I suddenly had to make a FREE phone call to anyone I pleased, I decided to wake up my mother and tell her I was calling from a friend's cellphone and it was free. My mother thought it was sweet, but didn't really care considering how she felt about being woken up. Or cellphones for that matter, which she had instilled in me were silly to begin with.

In the coming months, more and more people now had these devices. And boy, were they attached to them. Cellphone rings began interrupting professors in my classes. Then, I would walk out of class only to witness a sea of classmates immediately initiate contact with others via cellphones. The world suddenly seemed so disconnected.

In a sense, could I blame them? The add-ons for cellphone contracts were just getting better and better as companies competed for business. More free daytime minutes. Earlier unlimited night time and weekends. No roaming, whatever the HELL that was. Free phones when you sign up. Catherine Zeta-Jones in advertisements. Ooooh look it is a camera now too!

Amidst this new global takeover of cellphones, the biggest downfall from my perspective, was the sheer and utter lack of appropriate cellphone etiquette. People were talking on cellphones EVERYWHERE. On the bus. In the supermarket. In the gym. At the movies. In the car, while driving. I would be hanging out with my friends only to be disturbed by a sudden ringing, where then I would be immediately be left of what was apparently a much more important or stimulating conversation. Even when out to dinner this would happen... I was completely disgusted with the direction our social order had devastatingly turned.

Thus, despite the fact that EVERYONE I knew eventually had one by my senior year (including my mother who justified it as a safety net for long motorcycle rides) I refused to get one. According to my budding self-righteousness on the matter, it would be a serious blow to my personal integrity to contribute to the downfall of society in such a way.

With that, I maintained an incredible resolve for almost three years after my college graduation. I pleasured in racking up hefty long-distance phone bills. I delighted in using a caller ID to see who called while I was out. I magnanimously preached the ills of inappropriate cellphone usage to anyone I associated with, if I felt offended in some way by their hideous gadget. I shouted out "Sell out!" whenever I would see Catherine Z-J's face. And mostly, I hoped for the best whenever I traveled anywhere by car, alone.

I had a surprisingly good run, really. I went away to school again, and used phonecards to contact my friends. Every once and awhile I would borrow a phone as an issue of convenience, but it was sparingly. Sometimes, I fourtunately found myself traveling with folks who had their own cellphone; sometimes not, though I was admittedly relieved to make it through remote Wyoming without a flat tire.

When I went home to begin anew this past March. I had a realization that made me cringe. This was that it made more sense to by a cellphone then to preserve my integrity. I was moving to a new yet-to-be-determined city, looking for a place to live, looking for a job, and traveling by myself across the country to get there - I needed a cellphone!

So I shot myself in the foot and got one, proclaiming only to use it for good.

I am sad to report I have succumbed to its evil... It has become an attachment so important that I would rather leave my house naked, then without it. I drive with it. I talk on it in supermarkets. I've even made amends with Mrs. Douglas. I'm one of those people I used to curse.

Today I noticed this startling pattern resurging and consuming my soul. Once again, I have been sucked in by something my hearty resolve has resisted despite immeasurable forces of mass popularity.

Last night at 3:15am I finished <sigh> reading Harry Potter, book 1. And to make things worse, I begged Stephanie and Patrick to find their copy of book 2 for me ASAP (I waited 'til this morning!) so I wouldn't have to go without it for long. Damn. I don't even know who I am anymore.

Another Rock with a Hard Place Lurking Nearby

This is one of those stories I should never admit to actually happening to me, but I think it makes a good case for a reason not to buy expensive sunglasses... (and perhaps its widely known that selling ridiculously expensive sunglasses is part of what I do to earn a living. I sold two pair of $250 Maui Jim's today. I mean, their specially Italian-made patented lenses with the polarizing film and the scratch-resistant polycarbonate material with the waterproof coating and the UV protection and the nickel-alloy-memory-flex side pieces are fantastic (yet stylish!) and all, but seriously---)

It was my senior year at Florida State. I was entirely too bogged down and stressed-out with my semester long thesis project for my interior design final studio. There were alot of time-consuming elements to the project, that if were incomplete might prevent my rapidly approaching graduation ceremony from being something that I would be participating in. HOWEVER, I was really determined to not spend my entire spring break bunkered away from fun in my dark townhouse, all alone.

Lucky for me, I was invited by my theater major friends to spend Spring Break with them at Tiffany's house on St. John River near Jacksonville. I was totally down for at least a few days, allotting the second half of the week for some serious Auto-Cad.

I had a really blissful time with the theater kids - going to the beach, makin' pancakes, rollerskating, getting drunk and high - good times. And as good times far too often do, these came to an end as well.

By midweek the pressure was mounting to bolt back to Tallahassee, 2 and a half hours away, and work work work. A smaller group and I went shopping in this great district west of downtown called "Five Points," which is basically two full blocks of vintage clothing stores. I couldn't imagine a more perfect way to seal off my fun before leaving town.

We had lunch at this amazing organic eatery. I had the vegan stuffed shells. One of the things I particularly enjoy about this story is that a secondary moral rears it's ugly head right about now. Essentially it is that vegan stuffed shells + several hour drive = BAD IDEA.

I said farewell to my partners of tomfoolery and headed west back on I-10 toward Tallahassee. I was in a great mood, life had been good to me - everything was fine. It was a cool, early spring afternoon; not too warm in my un-air conditioned automobile - everything was fine. I was rocking out to some Led Zeppelin - everything was fine.

Then, the sun took residence at that really awkward late afternoon location in the sky. You know what I am talking about... where you're driving west and the fiery orb is fully exposed, lurking about while radiating it's outrageously intense beams at your retinas. Lucky for me, I had my sunglasses (nothing fancy really, but) - everything was fine.

Then, swiftly like a blow to the head, the vegan stuffed shells were on the attack. They wanted out! It was sudden and very much so absolutely necessary! My luck seemed to continue however because right there was one of those nifty highway rest stops, and I pulled on in.

I darted over to the bathroom, running as fast as I could in my flip-flops. I pulled opened the door, and leapt inside. Finding myself in a new, dimly lit environment by contrast, I stowed my trusty sunglasses on top of my head as I always did. I burst into the only available empty stall, and did my usual public restroom pre-screen, even though there wasn't much time for it. I cocked my head rapidly to quickly check for toilet paper in the plastic roll bin. Check! But then, the torqued motion caused my sunglasses to spin off my head and fall directly into the previously unflushed commode beside me.

Ewwwww! Yeah, I know. But I was in quite the terrible dilemma. I mean, I had to go! Really really bad! But I NEEDED my sunglasses for the remainder of my journey home. It wasn't like I could afford to wait a few precious hours at the rest stop for darkness to arrive. I couldn't wait, I needed to get back.

I'm going to leave out the details of the next few minutes. Lets just say that I made myself more comfortable AND my sunglasses were temporarily salvaged.

That's right. And I stand by my decision. I did buy new sunglasses within the next week. Rest assured -  they were the cheap kind.

Beginning Anew, Part II: Florida

At the end of February, I came to the realization that I had obtained what I had come for at Yogaville and was more than ready to give up my title as "Yogavillian". I found leaving there as a concept, remarkably easy by comparison to leaving Taliesin. When the well orchestrated day came, I hitched a ride with my friend Jackie (a former Yogavillian as well) to her new apartment in Annapolis, Maryland for a weekend of snowplay and drinking coffee! I was feeling in a state of perpetual bliss and I realized that my aura of happiness had alot to do with where I was not. Though I missed my friends from Taliesin, I was so relieved to no longer be caught up in having my energy drained by the experience there. I submitted my formal resignation to the Frank Lloyd Wright School of Architecture upon my return home.

I hadn't been home to South Florida in almost a year and half, and it had been countless months since I had seen either of my parents. They were so overjoyed to have me home for a few weeks that they did something rather unexpected...

They bought me a car!!!!

To be more precise, a white Mitsubishi Diamonte Station Wagon, whom I lovingly named, Jivanananda - the sanskrit phrase meaning "The Bliss of Wind."

This wonderful new acquisition made another much desired move far more possible. I should say that though it was nice being pampered at home, I certainly did not want to become stagnantly comfortable there sleeping on a futon mattress in the "Bird Room" overlooking the golfcourse at my mother's house. Slowly but surely I packed up some things that I had left at my home town of Hollywood and put it all in Jivanananda's wagonly fuselage. Before leaving Y'ville, I decided that I was going to move back out West to perhaps Santa Fe or some pleasant little Pacific enclave in California. Although I didn't know anyone in these places, nor did I have a job or place to live, I was confident that the Universe was looking out for me. I would use my credentials to find potential work in the field of sustainable architecture/design.

I bid farewell to my amazing parents (to whom I am most appreciative of), my 90 year old grandmother (who pleaded with me to cut my hair the entire time I was home unsuccessfully), and the few friends that I have left at home (including Tamara and Sari - my best friends from high school, and my friends Rachael & Erik who are now blessed with a beautifully big-eyed baby boy - Gus).

And then I headed west---

Getting the hell out of Florida was no simple ordeal. Since I had neglected to visit for so long, there was a multitude of friends who were eager for a slice of my passing through.

I stayed a night in Orlando with my friend Sharon and her boyfriend (house husband?) Greg, visiting with other high school compadres Iva and Katie.

The next day I stayed with the Boaz Family, who have been friends with my mom since we used to visit them at a nudist resort near Orlando where they lived, when I was alot younger. Since then, they have bought property near Clermont and built a house on their very own Bare Lake - get it?

It had been many years since I last visited them, and spent a refreshingly good 24 hours or so reconnecting with them before speeding off to Tallahassee where I would spend the next three nights.

Being in Tallahassee again was surreal considering how much it had changed in the few years since I graduated from my Alma Mater.

The Interior Design Department had moved from the horrendous monstrosity of a building that I had all of my undergraduate classes about good design in (Oh the irony!) The only reason I found the department's new location was because I followed a girl with a T-square strapped to her backpack into the new building. It was fun to freak out all my old professors and watch their double takes as they recognized me now with more hair.

An hour later I met my friend Holly who served as a Resident Assistant with me in Kellum Hall.  We snuck into our old stomping ground and marveled at its striking new looks - complete with redecorated main lounge adorned with new fake-wood paneling and couches trendy enough to put the ones they have at Starbucks to shame. The TV lounge had a gigantic plasma screen, and best of all the elevators now feature high tech chrome plating and actually stop at ever floor! (We could never figure out why - maybe to save money, maybe to increase weight loss - but until only very recently, the elevators in Kellum Hall only stopped at floors 1, 3, 6, and 9. Excuse me, when they worked at all, that is.)

Holly and I gave up trying to make sense of how cruel and unfair life is sometimes and went to Wakulla Springs - one of my favorite places in the nearby Tallahassee vicinity for a boat tour of the river. As always (it being about the 295,425,976th time taking the Wakulla Springs River Tour) we saw lots of alligators, turtles, anhingas, turkey vultures, osprey, and snakes (each of which our guide was effective in pointing out "taste really good with a side of home fries, cornbread, and grape kool-aid") - in addition to the famous curved tree from the Tarzan movies, the spot where 'Creature from the Black Lagoon' was filmed, and most notably the world's largest fresh water spring. My favorite fact about the spring is that diving expeditions discovered an intact wholly mammoth fossilized skeleton in the clear-watered depths -- in Florida!

That night I was overjoyed to reunite with two friends I had entirely lost track of from the Kellum Hall days - Elizabeth and Lori (who now goes by Zelda). As we ate at my favorite Tally restaurant we reminisced about the glory days when we had to get out of the elevator and still walk up two flights of stairs and watched Blind Date on a tiny wall-mounted television.

I also spent a great deal of time with my senior year, post-dorm ex-roommate Evyan and her cats (Miss Cleo & Monkey Face). Evyan was especially excited to have me over to drink Port.

On my last day in town, I visited with my friend Adrienne and was fortunate enough for a rare invite (these days) over to "Toddler Land" a.k.a. her home. I was delighted in seeing little Madison again and met baby Tyler for the first time. I didn't snag a photo that I feel is postable so I'll have to share the photo I took from a year and a half earlier which was the last time I passed through Tallahassee (notice me with shorter hair!)