Riding on a smile and a shoeshine...

The following entry may be a bit hard to follow, as it was written very quickly and without any sort of organization. it just sort of "happened" as the thoughts occured to me.
I have made a major life decision, and I needed to blog about it, like any sensible human being would... (right?)


It's amazing how quickly life changes.


Last night, I was talking to my friend Theresa about majors. Basically, I told her that I was a complete stressed-out mess, and that my ideas were so impossibly spaced out that they could never be reconciled.
We then approached the topic of Architecture. This was not necessarily a new thought; I had considered the major many times.
After this conversation, I immediately went to check the courselist at Madison. I was fairly certain that they had no Architecture programs here, but I thought I would check again.
and I was right.

They do not.

At this point, something kind of clicked in me. I remembered that UW-Milwaukee had such a program (the only kind of its type within the UW system, apparently?)

I started doing some research.
I suddenly became wild with excitement as I read through the transfer admission process.


at some point, I realized,
I NEED TO DO THIS.


Now I know to many, this may all sound like a very arbitrarily-based decision--made "on a whim," if you will. However, I can both assert that it indeed is not, and that if anything, my coming to UW-Madison was more arbitrary than anything.

To be completely honest, my attending this school was based on nothing more than personal biases and tiny snippets of truth:
"It's a good school."
"You'll totally fit in there..."
"The social life is so good!"
"The campus is beautiful."
"None of the other UW schools are really as good as Madison..."


I filled out applications for NO other institutions, upon my acceptance to UW-Madison. I had considered Milwaukee, but my parents kind of naysayed it, very subtly, of course.
"Well, I just think Madison is a better school, you know..."

and yes, Madison is a wonderful school. But time has shown me that it is not indeed the school for me.
The school is renowned, yes. but renowned for things that do not necessarily fit with my interests or personality...
major advancements in science, engineering, and the like...

I do not, nor have I ever, envisioned myself a scientist or researcher.
In retrospect, it's downright absurd that I even came to this school. Arbitrary, if you will.
It's like, I almost felt like I was excpected to go here.

But after many weeks fretting about majoring in something horrible like Biochemistry or Engineering, I suddenly realized that none of these majors were for me, and, consequently, UW-Madison was not for me either.

Perhaps this sounds a little far-fetched, or maybe even pretentious, but I feel like architecture is really the only way to reconcile the two halves of my brain.
I do not have an engineer's mind, even though I am an engineer's son... for whatever reason, my two brothers seemed to inherit this trait moreso than I. if something was ever broken in the house, I would leave it to those three to fix it.
but I still inherited something of my father's analytical side... I really enjoy math/am pretty proficient in it.
but somehow, I just simply KNEW that a degree/career in engineering was most definitely not for me. a year of school without a foreign language, without humanities, without fine arts, sounded pretty horrible to me.
at the same rate, I knew I was not necessarily cut out for a career in the fine arts either. and, as pretentious as this may sound, many majors in humanities did not appear "legitimate" enough for me personally. (again, please do not take offense to this! it was just a subconcious thought... )


anyways, somehow, someway, something clicked. I meet this new decision not with fear or anxiety of any kind. I am only excited.


I guess all that's left to do now is pray dearly to God that I get into housing, finish up this semester strongly, and read the Fountainhead... (I do plan on becoming an architect, right? lol)


"But you see," said Roark quietly, "I have, let's say, sixty years to live. Most of that time will be spent working. I've chosen the work I want to do. If I find no joy in it, then I'm only condemning myself to sixty years of torture. And I can find the joy only if I do my work in the best way possible to me. But the best is a matter of standards--and I set my own standards. I inherit nothing. I stand at the end of no tradition. I may, perhaps, stand at the beginning of one."