You know when you’re in architecture school when:
- the alarm clock tells you when to go to sleep;
- you’re not ashamed of drooling in class anymore, especially in the Structures lecture;
- you know what UHU tastes like;
- you CELEBRATE space and OBSERVE your birthday;
- coffee and cokes are tools, not treats;
- people get nauseous just by smelling your caffeine breath;
- you get surprised when you see a new building in your school;
- you think it’s possible to CREATE space;
- you’ve slept more than 20 hours non-stop in a single weekend;
- you fight with inanimate objects;
- you’ve fallen asleep in the washroom;
- you’re brother or sister thinks he or she is an only child;
- you’ve listened to all your cds in less than 48 hours;
- you’re not seen in public;
- you lose your house keys for a week and you don’t even notice;
- you’ve brushed your teeth and washed your hair in the school’s washroom;
- you’ve discovered the benefits of having none or very short hair. You’ve started to appreciate inheriting baldness;
- you’ve used an entire role of film to photograph the sidewalk;
- you know the exact time the vending machines are refilled;
- you always carry your deodorant;
- you become excellent at recycling when making models;
- when you try to communicate, you make a continuous and monotonous whine;
- when someone offers you a Bic pen, you feel offended;
- you take notes and messages with a rapidograph and color markers;
- you combine breakfast, lunch and dinner into one single meal;
- you see holidays only as extra sleeping time;
- you’ve got more photographs of buildings than of actual people;
- you’ve taken your girlfriend/boyfriend on a date to a construction site;
- you’ve realized that French curves are not that exciting;
- you can live without human contact, food or daylight, but if you can’t print. it’s chaos;
- when you’re being shown pictures of a trip, you ask what the human scale is;
- you can use Photoshop, Illustrator and make a web page, but you don’t know how to use Excel;
- you refer to great architects (dead or alive) by their first name, as if you knew them. (Frank, Mies, Norman…);
- you buy 50 dollar magazines that you haven’t read yet.