I immediately regretted my decision to go out last night. Not only did I spend around $60 buying fireballs for anyone within a fifteen foot radius, but I have a killer headache. So that’s why they tell you not to drink after you donate blood. Hangovers really aren’t that terrible… when you don’t have a three hour art class. But I can’t complain about my drawing class; I love that shit. I can, however, complain about the walk to the fine arts building.

If you’ve never been, the Fine Arts building is where the hipsters, GDIs, and myself congregate to do artsy things. Some seriously weird shit goes down in that building. But let me tell you what I love about the people you find in the fine arts building- EVERYTHING.

ImageFirst off, they wear the weirdest shit. Most of Mizzou dresses relatively normal and even pretty uniform. For example, on a given fall day there’s more riding boots in ten square feet than in all of the Kentucky Derby. But not in Fine Arts. There’s this girl named Tiffany (Name not changed to protect identity, I really don’t give a fuck) in my class who wears a  poncho every. single. day. I seriously don’t think I’ve seen her wear the same one twice. And I stare at her a lot, because she has a penis-shaped tattoo on her neck. It’s a great mood booster when I’m grumpy from sitting on a hard stool for three hours and I look over to see a boner right on this chick’s throat.

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Probably my favorite part of the crowd is that since everyone looks so terrible, I get to worry less about whether or not I look cute. Who cares that I didn’t straighten my hair when the girl next to me has an eye patch and dreadlocks.  I can literally wear whatever I want, because just the fact that I’m wearing legitimate fabric is a step up from most of the fuckers working there.

But you don’t realize how weird these people are until they open their mouths. I’m sitting in the studio the other day, just innocently finishing an assignment when this girl starts bitching about her roommates. She’s complaining that they keep the temperature too hot and I’m like, sure, that’s a legitimate complaint. But then she adds, “I’m just worried that the high temperature will make my rats sick or something”. The fuck? There are so many things wrong with that statement. First, I have an issue with anyone who considers a fucking rat a legitimate pet. Second, ratS? Plural? How many of those do you have? She’s probably the daughter of that obese lady on My Strange Addiction who huffs her rats and craves the smell of nacho cheese. After hearing that shit I felt bad for judging her roommates. They’re probably just trying to smoke her out; that’s what I’d do.

Then there’s Harry. Harry is a guy in the class next to me. He is 100% Asian, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t speak English. I only think this because when the teacher calls on him to answer a question, Harry just avoids eye contact, leans back and forth repeatedly, and legitimately groans until the teacher gives up and calls on someone else. Harry has issues.
ImageAnd that’s just the students; the teachers are even weirder. I love my art teacher, but, like most grown men who have ponytails, he’s got a few loose screws. The first time he showed us how to spray our drawings with chemicals to make the charcoal stay, he made a point to tell us that he would prefer if we would not spray the contents of the can into a bag and huff it. Did he really need to tell us that? Apparently so… today as he was passing out sweet tarts, he casually tells us, “When I was in preschool I used to crush sweet tarts up and snort them”. Okay, what? I don’t know if i was even capable of going to the bathroom by myself in preschool, meanwhile this guy was preparing for a life of recreational drug use.

ImageBut this is what’s so great about Fine Arts. Everyone is so delightfully strange, and for some reason, it makes me really happy. Probably because it’s the only place in the world where I’m actually considered normal. All in all, I really don’t think I’d want it to be any other way. I never get tired of watching the hipsters smoke E-cigs in the halls or the anime-obsessed asians gab in Chinese. So if you’re ever bored, curious, or just feeling bad about yourself, I’d recommend a visit to the Fine Arts building. It’s a magical place that will make you feel better about every aspect of your life. Come see me while you’re there, I’ll be the ginger sitting alone in a corner avoiding eye contact and resisting the urge to draw a pair of testicles on Tiffany’s neck.

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