work is WORK

Instead of counting the number of DAYS I have worked, I have graduated to WEEKS, and before long it will turn into months and then possibly a year... or years. But for now I am comfortable sticking with weeks.

For the first week I was thrown into a project where [much like my first architecture job] I was working on building elevations. The drawings were the product of another firm whom I can only guess employed a very coordinated monkey [with skillful apposing thumb]. The Elevations that I was to take on as my own were in dire need of correcting, in ways that I couldn't imagine. Never did I think that a single set of drawings could be this badly drawn. There were so many errors in my four drawings was unbelievable, and when we matched them up to the building plans... forget about it... there were even more there. But as the week went by I clicked my mouse eight hours at a time and the corrections were made. This project extended into the second week where I had my second deadline, which that was more stressful for my co-workers than it was for me, even though I pulled a few hours of overtime.

But this week on my 3rd week I was given something to think about. I was approached by one of my boss men and asked to do a site analysis for a project that they were competing for. He wanted my opinion. After he explained the project, its parameters and pretty much what I was to do, he left my desk. He left me with a roll of trace paper, a site plan, and a clueless look on my face.

Don't get me wrong I have done site analysis before on several projects, but this time it didn't click. I blankly stared at the proposal that another firm had done for the prep-work, but it left me wondering "what was I to do...come up with more?" I sat there flipping though the booklet and thinking, "Whoever did this pamphlet is surely smarter than I am, and has had loads more experience... what ideas can I come up with, that they haven't?" Seriously it felt as if Thomas Edison handed me a light bulb and said, what's next. And in reply I would say: "Lunch?"

But it felt good to get the cogs turning again. The rust slowly was shaken from the rotating parts in my brain and pen hit the paper with the intent of making more than just doodles on the corner of the page. The last site analysis I did was way back in January and February... so it took a bit to shake off the cobwebs, but now I have something on paper and starting to show the way that I think about things. It may not be perfect or even what my boss is looking for but at least I am doing some critical thinking as opposed to just critical mouse clicking.

[click on the title 'work is WORK' to find a helpful link]

Moving-In

I have been living in my new place for three weeks now and things are falling into place. I now have a few pictures hanging on the wall and all the books I own are crammed into one bookshelf. For the first time ever I have more closets then I can fill. My walk in closet houses all of my real-life clothes (ones that I can wear to work and out in public) and the other two just contain boxes, a vacuum cleaner and my coat. My kitchen is pretty small and the counter space is pretty much non-existent, but it serves me well as I don't really do all that much intense cooking. Everything seems to have its place and always seems to find its way back...believe it or not.

it's a small kitchen but it is great for the one chef in this house.

Small homage to the St.Louis blues, right over my desk where all the bill paying goes down.

Two Weeks In

It has been two weeks since I packed up my life and moved as much of it as possible to the land of crabs and beer (or at least that is what they tell me).



As I was shoving this and that into boxes here and there, I would stop, flip through photo albums, scrap books, and try on clothes that I haven’t seen in a few years [all which of course no longer fit the way I remember]. This lead to memories rushing back into my mind and conjured feelings of happiness and even at times embarrassment. It felt as if I was watching someone else packing up my belongings and seeing it all fade away in slow motion. Gradually bags began to fill and objects that were once scattered across my room were disappearing, as if into thin air.

Soon Monday morning came with bright crisp light, low in the sky but already warming the saturated humid air. We made our way to highway 40 with all the other rush hour drivers and began our two day migration east. Sooner than I though I was taking the exit ramp bound for Illinois, and the Arch, the symbol of home for so many years was no longer glistening before me, but somehow slipped into my rearview mirror and beginning to fade away. This was real, it wasn’t just another semester, this was the start of my new life.

We drove, drove, drove, and my sister [a.k.a my co-pilot] slept, slept, and slept. We crossed several state lines and stopped a few times in cities that only the locals could ever know about. I had no idea what route I was taking, but I always kept close tabs on the giant white 15-passenger van ahead of me. Just as I had always done growing up, I was following my parents lead.

Early Monday evening we stopped in Pennsylvania for dinner and some well deserved rest. Tuesday morning we were bound For Falling Water, one of Frank Lloyd Wright’s masterpieces. The countryside was amazing! The rolling hills still had some morning fog hovering above the ground in the valleys of the rolling hills. The black pavement stretched out ahead of us and would quickly dart around curves, and then continued to plunge forward into some densely wooded areas. It was so fun to drive on these slender two lane roads. My foot couldn’t help to push the accelerator down and feel the car hug the curvatious road beneath it, [not to mention dad was speeding…imagine that].

After a two hour tour and a quick ‘walk through nature’ we were back on the road and headed straight for Baltimore. Before I knew it, I was at the apartment’s main office, signing my lease and collecting my keys. It started off as a pair of keys to my front door, and then came the mail box keys, and then the key to the trash room and finally the key to the work out room. When I left I had a total of eight keys in my hand and unsure of what to do with them all, I shoved all of them deep into my pocket.

Without wasting anytime we headed for my building, climbed the two flights of stairs that lead to my new front door. I reached in my pocket o’ keys and pulled the dull brass one out and slid it into the narrow slot, turned the knob and pushed. I was home.
It was a blank beige slate. A place that had ‘beginning’ written all over it. It was my new start. Within a few days though, IKEA boxes littered the floor and the contents pulled out, laying askew across the floor. Instructions were carefully followed and screws were tightly adjusted and soon I had furniture. Not only did my family spend a considerable amount of time at this supermarket of furniture, but also Target, the Bed, Bath and Beyond, and even, yes even Walmart. By the end of the week I felt like a regular at Target, able to be on a first name basis with many of the employees. But by Saturday, my place came together and time was quickly running out for the duration of my parents stay.

It was nearly 11:00 by the time my family left. We slowly strolled to the now empty 15 passenger huge white van. Deep down I didn’t really want them to go but I knew it was the right time. As we hugged I thanked them for all their help and their patience. Tears soon welled up in my eyes, so much that I couldn’t really even see anything but a series of blobs and colors. I tired wiping them away but they seemed to come from a un-stoppable source. It wouldn’t be long until it was Monday and that would mean that my mind would be occupied with more than just re-organizing the contents of my closet… but that is anther story.

pictures to follow soon!