tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3461658247603905885.post8033096526253806151..comments2023-08-23T05:31:31.218-06:00Comments on Why Architects Drink: Our identities, our time, our selves, and our livestockMile High Pixiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276750909800945131noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3461658247603905885.post-66254940383120324502009-01-20T12:46:00.000-07:002009-01-20T12:46:00.000-07:00Wait a second. You have a supersonic death ray in...Wait a second. You have a supersonic death ray in your fort? Way cool!<BR/>I am a pain in the ass. My sarcasm defines me. My animals think my unreasonable rules define me... meanest kitty/doggy mommy in the universe.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3461658247603905885.post-35721196453375538012009-01-18T19:12:00.000-07:002009-01-18T19:12:00.000-07:00Maybe we should all consider ourselves jacks-of-al...Maybe we should all consider ourselves jacks-of-all-trades: friend, sister, artist, writer, employee, worker, architect, teacher, reader, artist, cook, toilet-swisher. It sort of depends on who's defining you, doesn't it? I am myself; I am dissed, I am whomever I am at the moment. Right now, I'm a tired mom who wants a cup of tea and feels guilty for not pulling up the rest of the carpet, as planned. Tomorrow, I'll be a relaxed antiques mall shopper. The day after that, I'll be a teacher for the usual eight hours. The definitions are fluid, constantly shifting. Don't be too hard on yourself.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com