Sometimes I regret sucking at design.

My largest problem with Graphic Design is the craft and precision of it. I am naturally a messy person, and my cutting boards, tools, and gluing skills are a reflection of that. To add to the futility of it, my worst trait is how I'm arguably inclined to not care about something if I don't naturally excel at it. This has been exemplified through years of failing at gymnastics, ballet, tennis, sailing, or even just working on my weak wrists and ankles. (In my defense, I am part British)

While I am not jealous of the mind-numbing amount of hours I have seen my roommate and classmates work on their paper sculptures and packaging projects, I am envious of their end results. To put it simply their projects are fucking beautiful and I wish I could even attempt such a feat. However, because I chose to take glorious advertising and writing courses I get to bastardize some of my favorite brands in its stead. And as we all know, the creative process is best stimulated through cheap alcohol and living in your own delusions of grandeur. Two things I've got totally under control.

I just get a little sad whenever I see the epic work of Rob Ryan, or the Etsy shop of Mr. Yen. Paperwork is beautiful and I can only aspire to have a cut-out masterpiece of my own someday. My tawdry and collegiate whitewashed walls only currently contain my assholish-photoshop renderings I either made for class or for fun while intoxicated.

But Sarah, why did you put a hamster on an Absolut Ad?
Because it's fucking adorable.
Yes I get that, but why did you have to put it in your portfolio?

...Because it was either that or Abe Lincoln talking about railing bar wenches. Oh wait, that's in there too. Thank G-d I know I'm not working in design after that mythical day they call "graduation."

Just to prove I'm not screwing around all the time, here's a bit of my (yet to be approved) thesis I wrote today. I'm essentially going to design a book I'm currently writing, on top of the mountain of classes I plan on taking, and writing the scripts for Drexel's talk show. Luckily I always have my secret weapon...insomnia.

This is a short excerpt from my food chapter, discussing yours and my favorite pastime: snacking.

You can’t get through your day on a three paltry meals, hopes, dreams, and barbituates alone. You’re probably going to want some fruit salad as well.

Snacking has always been a dangerous pastime, like freefalling or day drinking. You just don’t know how or when to stop. One chip turns into five, then half the bag, then you’re hysterically scrubbing the orange cheesy dye off your hands like you just committed a murder. You’re not Lady Macbeth, and washing away the evidence still won’t help the size of your thighs.

If you need your chip and dip fix, don’t be afraid to waste dishes and set aside pre-measured portions. Keep in mind the portions should be considerably smaller than a feeding trough. Living the dream isn’t funneling onion dip into your mouth: it’s fitting into the clothes that make people hate you.

Don’t eat in front of the TV, the glowing box will distract you from the quantity or quality of calories being shoveled into one of your less discriminating orifices. A self-satisfying and somewhat innocent snack is toasted whole grain pita or cucumbers with hummus. You can stock up and blow some cash on some of the gourmet hummus options, or make your own. All you really need are some chick peas, a food processor, and the will to blend something other than margaritas.