Babing at High Altitude: When the Littlest Misfit Fits Perfectly

I guess I have always taken issue with doing what is expected. Being a misfit just fit better.

I did the whole go to college blah blah dance for me monkey and give us all your money hooplah thing after high school. But after five years of working my ass off (and occasionally having a damn good time, too) I left sans my piece of paper that is supposed to legitimize me as a person. Why? Because fuck that rigid structure, that's why.

I got into the architecture school, and loved parts of it. You gave up on sleep, and a social life outside of the studio, devoting your every breath to a field that, in my opinion, is a dying and decaying one, but I was fascinated by design, and let's face it, money. Architects used to be the almighty ones behind every structure, overseeing and creating every aspect. Now, they are being phased out.

Anyways, I wanted to diversify my college experience learning as much as I could. The architecture school has such a rigid, no wiggle room to explore curriculum. So, I took my education into my own hands. I studied German for two years, Italian for three; expanded my mind in psychology alongside blond sowhority girls, debated politics with white upper-class male hypocrites, and philosophized (wow, that's an actual word!) with pseudo-intellectual 'that's a half-caff soy/rice/goat milk with one pump sugar-free fair trade solve world hunger vanilla syrup, easy on the foam it makes me gassy, latte' types. (I have worked at many, many coffee shops in this lifetime. )

And, alas, about three of those credits went to my actual degree. After five years of working myself to death with 18 credit hour semesters, no sleep, and a coffee shop job that paid $5.15/hr. (and someone actually had the audacity to ask me to break a quarter to tip me! I told him a better use for that quarter... ) I was way burned out, in too much debt, and just flat-out pissed at the bureaucratic bullshit that is college, to continue on. Whatever, I learned so much, and now I can write obscenely long-winded, judgmental!, run-on sentences with a wriggling baby on my boob! Suck it CU Boulder!

But now apparently, I am not a legitimate person. Educated, obscene amounts of loan debt for eternity, but no signed paper to prove it. I'm still doing design work from home, stumbled into graphic design, and I am working on launching my website design career this fall. So, I consider myself pretty damn legitimate. And now I have an amazing baby, a loving, devoted baby-daddy boyfriend (continuing the trend of misfittingdom), and a beautiful place to live! Mis-fitting just fits so perfectly, now.