Daniel got ahold of the apartment people today, and all is well. They apparently never got around to entering our credit into the database, the first late fee was a fluke, and they’re not going to charge us a late fee for this month either, and the lady that was involved in the key incident doesn’t even work there anymore. It was apparently all a gigantic misunderstanding. That still doesn’t leave me with much faith in them, but fortunately we only owe them this month’s $325, not that entire $800 crap. *big sigh of relief*
Yesterday was kind of all-around sucky. It didn’t start out that way – I had fun in class, I went out to happy hour with some friends (and had Ginger Ale, and nobody carded me because we sat in the restaurant part) and talked about movies and dorky Internet-y things.
Then I got home and we had that stupid letter in the mail.
The plan that night was for us to go bowling with Daniel’s co-workers (not sure if I mentioned it before, but they do this every Tuesday) and I agreed to come along this time, after missing last week for homework. I bowled a fantastic first game, getting 116 right off the bat. The second game didn’t start out nearly as well – I think I got two gutter balls on my first turn.
Then some girl started talking to me. The conversation went something like this:
M = me
H = her
H: So, where do you work?
M: Err, well, I don’t… I work… Um, I work at my school. I go to school.
H: Oh! Where at?
M: The Art Institute of Portland.
H: Oh. Soooo, what are you majoring in?
M: Web design.
H: So do you actually feel that it’s worth your money?
M: *caught off guard* Um, well, it’s expensive, but I think–
H: Because you know you could get a degree at an art school, like PNCA.
Daniel: Oh, our friend T did that! She transferred from Ai to PNCA! And sometimes your major is kind of… funny… I mean, you’ve had all those department directors…
H: I’m in the industry, and honestly? The industry laughs at people from Ai.
H: *ignores my look of horror* I studied Graphic Design and I’ve got a Bachelor’s in Fine Arts. And I went for FOUR years. You know you could do that, and you’d get an actual degree.
M: Well it’s a three year program and I’m getting a BACHELOR OF SCIENCE DEGREE out of it.
H: Oh, it’s– You’re not– *changes tactics* But, I mean, you WANT a fine arts degree. Really.
M: But I DON’T want a fine arts degree–
H: In your portfolio and everything, they want to see your artistic stuff, your sketches and everything. You can’t have a design portfolio without that.
M: You– yes– Design is–
H: *says something else inflammatory, then sort of turns around and ends the conversation*
I almost burst into tears right there, except it was my turn to bowl (I got a 9). She had basically just told me my school was crap, my degree was crap, I will graduate but never get a job because everyone just laughs at Ai graduates and I should just give up and transfer to a REAL college like PNCA where I can get a REAL degree in Fine Arts. And then Daniel, unbeknownst to him, made it far worse by seeming like he AGREED with her when he was really just trying to be part of the conversation. UGH. I was miserable the rest of the night. Why would you DO that to somebody? Just start up a conversation with them and then tell them what they’re doing is worthless and laughable? I’m still infuriated. And she works at Nike. I would HATE to work at Nike.
I came home and curled up on the Poof chair. I didn’t even bother putting on my pajamas or getting ready for bed. I fell asleep and ended up dreaming that I could speak to a ghost. The ghost was a little blond girl whose name was Annie, and I was the only one that could communicate with her. I woke up totally freaked out at 7-something and came to bed for another hour.
I’m still sort of freaked out about it, and still feeling like crap because I go to an expensive school where I’m getting a Bachelor of Science degree in three years. I feel like it was what some people call a “mommy-drive-by” except instead of being about my parenting skills, it was about my school choices. WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO DEFEND MY LIFE CHOICES TO SOMEBODY I DON’T EVEN KNOW?