Basillicas and Pauper queens...(mainly pictures)

Pictures taken on a rainy day of the Johannesburg Old Park station - i found that there was almost no information on the "Pauper Queen of Johannesburg" so here's what I've got. We did a history project on it comparing it to Rennaisance and Neo Classical Architecture - it appears in its self and style an interesting disambiguation from the ancient roman basillica (see Old St Peter's Basillica).

Its not holidays, its freetime to work

I don't know if its my perfectionistish/obsessedish/over-acheivernessness(which btw i dont find a crime like most of the human race between the ages of 15 and 40) anyways - i've decided to become a more regular blogger. God help me. i dont know if i can commit. but i'll try, i know i bore my class mates enough on our facebook page from which i should get inspiration for this old thing. Anyways enough deviation - Somebody wise once said... weekends are not weekends unless you spend them doing  something absolutely worthless. I Like! but it doesn't apply to elongated periods of unscheduled (un deadlined time). the idea is that when you go on holiday you're supposed to bomb-off and do nothing whatsoever and thus completely rid yourself of all things architorturous but when you think of it there really isnt much sense in that. If you work you'll ultimately be making life easier for yourself - you get no know people and ever student knows contacts are everything - come third year when you've got to find someone to work with or risk putting off your archi registration yet another year (or 2) your gonna need those people and plus, u dont come across as green to your oh so mighty tutors in the business. imagine u there arguing with so and so during your crit and then you whipp out " but Rem said that  we must design .... last summer" Kudos to you  - imagine how many people you're connected to (degrees of separation wise) by that contact. and imagine whipping that out at an interview some where aolong the line oh - i worked for OMA in the summer of 11' and Eisenman and associates in 2012 and and spent two years in Calatrava's office after 3rd year -seriously?  any ways on a closing note - here's my crazy class of 2011 whom i hhope will be not totally bombing off this holiday...TTYL

Construction. lovely

>my baby :)

There is this lovely subject that we do - and this lovely person that takes us for this lovely subject. Admittedly he is cool but Mr - lets call him GQ in memory of his facebook photo- the 2nd yrs swear its photoshoped but u cant be too sure. Anyway on this lovely day (do u feel the euphemistic nuances? ) we sat in front of the computer screen for 10 hours - and still did not finish - the beauty. When our lovely lecturer realised that all the lovely children weren't getting our work done on time, he gave us a lovely extension - because we have to start our one "short" day (10-5) thinking about what a LOOONg day it is going to be... lovely. Basically here's the deal - we are not supposed to have construction because  this is supposed to be our BIG design mionth - 2 A1 poster s and a model due in thursday @8 and a 4 storey structure - that we have to build ourselves(4 people from our group because the other 4 are awol minusish 1 or 2) tht we haven't completely gotten matterials for. we protested. protest denied. we still have to do construction. whopee. on a lighter note......... there. 

3 days and counting.....

There is nothing more tortourous than W a i t i n g, in fact I have grown so apprehensive of w a i t i n g that i'm now officially (as of as long as i could remember saying it) a self - proclaimed sufferer from a pathological fear of boredom - u know what,i'm gonna google that and see if it exists....and the winner is THAASOPHOBIA- pretty cool, huh. I did however come across a remarkable phobia - ballistophobia - the (definition:P.H.O.B.I.A)  "An extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to"...missiles. I mean GOSH really? Afraid of missiles? how dumb is that?! - well I guess we cant all be such magnificent men blasting into (definition: M.I.S.S.I.L.E) self-propelled or remote-controlled weapons that carry conventional or nuclear explosives. (just between y'all and me) chicks are smarter ;) i guess our school's reputation for producing independent women (with "slight" feministic tendencies was true afterall - I AM INDOCTRINATED HELP ME, SAVE ME)!
my, how I've digressed, okay back to topic; i am quick to realise, the only thing worse than mid quater blues - no holiday in sight- iswhen term (or "sem" - whatever floats your boat) is literally upon you - no holiday in sight - in fact conciderable amounts of awake time in view. Since I started architecture school, I have never spent more time awake in my life! I dont know if it is insanity or what! It is also quite ironic that archi -students are some of the biggest procrastinators i know. My vow? Never again am I going to go with 10hrs sleep in a total of 8 days including a double all-nighter - clearly we were all zombies when we got to the end of that week. some subjects suffered more than others. i dont even know why they bother to put a lecture on the morning of such a hand-in its clear half the class hasen't actually finished by then... and the other half'sjust gone to sleep after sending a friend in to pin up their project and sign their name of. I'm telling you, at the rate we're going in class, we're all going to have the same and/or similar signatures at the end of the year - just so its easier to sign in the whole 79 person class in the lecture attended by 10 people - all of whom were in various stages of sleep. Zombie(DIAGNOSIS: eyes open, un responsive), Bobble head (DIAGNOSIS:fighting really hard to keep one's head up, losing), Phone(mobile) fiend (DIAGNOSIS: progresion of previously mentioned Bobble head state) and the Head smack (DIAGNOSIS: all hope of self-redemption lost, probably bashes head on table - if he did he wouldn't notice anyway).
My dear friends, the plane will be touching down in T minus 3days ; WELCOME TO ARCHITORTURE; live from studio C, in the John Moffat Extention block. This is Life -

The power of an imaginary itch

Yesterday while (ahem!) strolling on down to our "extremely well organised taxi park" - aka taxis bustling haphazardly parking by dilapidated name poles and all of us wondering "if we get into this taxi, how on EARTH are we going to get out of the park" - for those who haven't got it by now, these are not your ordinary run-of-the-mill yellow NYC taxis, these are minibuses, unsafe, cheap, dirty as hell- scrap that at least hell has heat sterilization - dirty as...radiation waste ??- they are so bad, i was sitting in one and i got a bed bug crawling up my bag. You can imagine i got the fright of my life- the guy next to me didn't make things better as he commented that taxis are infested with these un-squishable, bloodsucking mini-monsters and they crawl out when you sit on the seat long enough for it to get warm. I poked my head out my window - we were in a dead lock that i knew went for a couple hundred meteres to our turn-off and I was in a seat by the window... on the other side of the door - running was not an option. We continued to sit there for of an hour half way through which, and me almost in tears, i decided... stuff this, i have got to move on with life- so i did something. That did not mean i wasn't scratching my self the entire evening- those invisible bites DO itch.

Interesting angsty... but interesting.. promising

writers,l angsty writters.. define angst:

Who am I? That's a secret I'll never tell. XOXO

Ms VaRouge, tell us about your self... well i guess this is my first time to blog, and , well, hello internet public that rack into the minds of those who prey upon it... Mwahahaha.
Okay, fine, i'll kinda introduce myself... Mon nom is Ms VaRouge - I think by the fact that you've managed to get onto this glourious site/blog, takeyourpick, that you would know anyone sane would not reveal themselves on the internet - so i remain the elusive...
I am an African (as per the redundunt speech of his formerness ThaboMbeki) , I was born in the hills of my below povertyline "intolerant" (ahem moral) country, educated in and i quote "best english school in Gauteng as voted by You" I am a christian - and i'd like to prove this to all who ask... unless of course they are the"tolerant" intolerant type who scram (ps i use words from all ends of the age spectrum) at the mere insinuation of christianity. I dare all 2 contest.
So, those two out of the way i shall proceed to rattle on about nothing what so ever in a bid to reveal my non-opinionated opinions on various issues surrounding my teenagershipness.
all hail, her royal teenship
Ms (not Miss nor Mrs, Ms) VaRouge Random

Ps. I am not, nor may ever be SouthAfrican - so whoever's tracking me, that's scrapped.
oh and btw, if you haven't guessed i am (duh) a teenager - age unspecified i'll leave that to the guessers though you may or maynot hear when that status changes.
one last thing - i do not currently attend the above mentioned "as voted by u" - i'll give 500bucks worth of TLC to whoever can guess my empirical data ;)