As I am trudging off into a new year I have the sudden urge to tell a certain college prof a thing.
I was 18! I arrived eager and anxious to excell in what I believed was what I wanted to become. You taught for 4 weeks about the decline of Roman archetecture. You bragged in an austere, holier than us voice about how you wore only natural fiber against your skin. There was only natural fiber in your home and that leather only ever touched your feet if they, your feet were bound in cotton or wool. You went on to explain that only natural dyes were used in the colors of your upholstry and clothing.
That you dispised anything that even looked remotely of Spanish influence and red and black were your least favorite colors. You sat like a king upon a throne and metted out smiles and favors to every lesbian girl in every one of your classes. They would spend a good portion of class fussing over your all natural wardrobe that frankly looked like it had been woven on a loom in Chico California during a legalize marijuana sit in. Yes it was great, it was cool but it was not to my taste. There were girls who went out and bought a whole new wardrobe attempting to gain favor with you. It worked much to my surprise. I was there to learn about interrior design, form and function not curry a passing grade from you by becoming your little minion and play toy. This apparently upset you. Me. I rocked your entire world and my refusal to be what they were had you in a rage I was very unaware of. You waited and waited for a moment to pounce on me like a leopard and devour my innocense. I unwittingly stumbled and you pounced.
I am not sure even now why you disliked me and had a mean streak you saved only for me. There was always a perverse evil grin on your face as you tried numerous times to humiliate me.
You gave us instructions on how to do a color board on week 10 to have completed by week 12 and turned us loose.
I created a my board, a bedroom, with pale marble floors, sisel grass woven rugs, plastered walls painted a few shades darker than the pale floor, pale, all in various shades of creamy buttermilk. The bed I did in golds and reds and blacks. It was the focal point of the room.
I wanted it to pop out and the rest to be just landscape. I was pleased with the visual I created. There were pillows for the bed and pillows for the floor it was a vision out of a romance novel. Then I made the error. I put my name on the wrong end of the board. You saved mine for last and smiled as you began to rip it apart with your scathing criticsism.
You hated it was all nuetral tones except the bed. You hated the red and black. "Gold belonged on jewelry and class? do I like pillows? Oh and look at this you are so bad at this you even put your name on the wrong end". They laughed, and laughed and you laughed. "If I were your client I would fire you on the spot and tell all my friends about your tacky lack of talent" you screeched at me.
This berating went on for several unnecessary moments. After class as I was leaving you grabbed my arm and asked what grade I should get for the project. Since it was my project and it was a design to be to my taste, not for a client, and allowing for the rookie mistake I would say an A-. She looked shocked and then grinned and with a cackle more than a laugh in a red marker proceeded to write in very large script a D- She then looked at me and said I like the texture on the walls this will score a 20 . Your grade is 20. She handed it to me with a smirk. I looked at her, then the board and back at her. I said to her "You think it is trash you throw it away!" and walked out.
I do not know what your problem was or what I did to provoke your instant hatred or what I said or did not do or say but no one deserves that. Here is the truth; you were a tool used by a GOD you proabaly in your natural fiber do not believe in, but understand this, if I was supposed to be an Interior designer I would have been and you would not have been able to stop it. You have earned my pity.
WOW! that was refreshing. I feel like a serious burden has been lifted and I am free of those tethers she maliciously wrapped around me so long ago. Oh and by the way.... There are 8 pillows on my bed! 5 on the couch, 8 in the guest room and those do not count the ones we sleep on. There are even pillows on my porch! Maybe you should have used more PILLOWS!!!!!
Cheers!
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