All my art therapy classes take place in the same room. I made a diagram for you guys. 1) because i was bored 2) because i KNOW you want a mental image of where i am for eight hours on Tuesdays and 3) Because it's sort of relevant to the story I'm going to tell. Without further ado, the diagram:
The red dot is me. The black dot is everyone else and the U shaped thing are tables. The black squares are closets full of art supplies, and the brown rectanges are various tables, shelves and storage. The brown square is a podium and the light blue rectange is a sink. Most importantly, the dark blue square is the AIR CONDITIONER.

So. My professor comes up to chat with me and the girl next to me (Corrinne, if it matters) and points out how our hair, papers, etc are falling victim to the A.C. unit directly behind us. I however, admit that i really like sitting in front of the airconditioner. I bring my sweater, hoodie, etc and vie for a spot. Partially because its in the back and i can see everything, and two, because of the aforementioned coveted airconditioner. (Coveted for me at least, some people hate it.) So, after mentioning that i like it, and also happening to mention that I have a fan that blows on my at my desk/bed in my room, Anne (my professor) askes if I've ever heard of 'haptic people,' because I might be one. I hadn't, and assume you haven't, so here we go:

hap·tic ( 'hap-tik )
adjective
1: realting to or based on the sense of touch (the haptic mode of perception)
2: characterized by a predilection for the sense of touch (a haptic person)

Earlier in the class, we had been discussing relaxation techniques. I mentioned that when i was stressed, I'll shower and pay close attention to the water so everything else just kind of tunes out. It really works, for me anyways.

So, between the shower comment and the airconditioning comment, she pointed out that I might just be a haptic person.

Which really explains a lot. The fact that I really can't sleep without a fan. Or sit in a car without some sort of air movement. Why I like hugs so much. And touch people when I talk. Or why when I was little I abhored clothes that were itchy or otherwise uncomfortable.

I'M NOT A FREAK! THESE PEOPLE EXIST! THE DICTIONARY SAYS SO!

And that was the revelation uncovered on Tuesday. Thought I'd share.

-meredith*