the lust of lucre strikes
I think I'm becoming a full blown smoker. Generally I only smoke when two of the following three conditions are met: (1) when I'm drinking, (2) when I'm nervous, (3) when it is cold and dark. Smoking seems to fit nicely with seedy bars I frequent, inclement weather, and my chronic fidgeting. Honestly it really amazes me that I've been generally successful in fending off the urge to chainsmoke constantly given my nervous personality. Today though, I lit up coffin nail in the middle of the afternoon on a beautiful, bright sunny day. Next thing I know I'll be buying cartons to save the extra few bucks. Fuck that noise. From now on, I'll only smoke a square after a grueling workout, following a filling vegan meal, or as a delightful post-coital treat. Then again, if I do really do become a smoker, I can use the empty boxes for my Artomat pieces. I've almost finished my prototype for submission and if they accept it, that will be another excuse for me to indulge in my favorite vice. Well, third favorite. *love, r.
Saturday, January 31, 2004
Friday, January 23, 2004
the long wait is over
Looking through the chron while trying to kill some time at work, I stumbled across this notice regarding UR Cooks. Appearently the store is closed. What does this have to do with a militant vegetarian such as myself? Well, the truth is that my vegetarianism has really just been a strike against UR Cooks, the place that gave me a fucking beef overdose on my twentieth birthday. Now that the local outpost of this horrible restaurant chain has succumbed to my boycott, I can go back to eating mammoth hunks of meat for every meal, which is what I've really wanted to do for the past two years. Hooray for capitalism! Hooray for the consumer who wields all power in this market driven ubereconomy of love!
*love, r.
Looking through the chron while trying to kill some time at work, I stumbled across this notice regarding UR Cooks. Appearently the store is closed. What does this have to do with a militant vegetarian such as myself? Well, the truth is that my vegetarianism has really just been a strike against UR Cooks, the place that gave me a fucking beef overdose on my twentieth birthday. Now that the local outpost of this horrible restaurant chain has succumbed to my boycott, I can go back to eating mammoth hunks of meat for every meal, which is what I've really wanted to do for the past two years. Hooray for capitalism! Hooray for the consumer who wields all power in this market driven ubereconomy of love!
*love, r.
cherry 2000
The first week of school is now over. I'm still waiting to hear back from the RTF dept. as to whether or not I can get credit for a class I took over the limit of RTF hours. If so, I'll only have to take six hours this final semester, which would be awesome. For the past week, Sam has been staying with me. As she has grown weary of her current residence, I suggested that she move in with me and this was to be a sort of trial period. It has been really nice having her here, sharing a space, preparing meals together, and just generally being cozily domestic. Ultimately though, she realized that she'd rather have her own place a bit closer to where she works and goes to school, which makes sense. While I'd hoped to have Sam move in because I love spending time with her, I've come to recognize that my invitation was at least partly out of economic practicality coupled with the loneliness of living by myself - I like having my own place, mind you, but it gets to feeling mighty empty at times. I've really enjoyed this week despite our somewhat diametric schedules and being a bit emotionally on edge - for fear that annoying eachother as roommates might damage of our still fledgling relationship... I still look forward to helping her move (even if it isn't into my place) and visiting her at her new apartment. I just wish it were in walking distance. *love, r.
The first week of school is now over. I'm still waiting to hear back from the RTF dept. as to whether or not I can get credit for a class I took over the limit of RTF hours. If so, I'll only have to take six hours this final semester, which would be awesome. For the past week, Sam has been staying with me. As she has grown weary of her current residence, I suggested that she move in with me and this was to be a sort of trial period. It has been really nice having her here, sharing a space, preparing meals together, and just generally being cozily domestic. Ultimately though, she realized that she'd rather have her own place a bit closer to where she works and goes to school, which makes sense. While I'd hoped to have Sam move in because I love spending time with her, I've come to recognize that my invitation was at least partly out of economic practicality coupled with the loneliness of living by myself - I like having my own place, mind you, but it gets to feeling mighty empty at times. I've really enjoyed this week despite our somewhat diametric schedules and being a bit emotionally on edge - for fear that annoying eachother as roommates might damage of our still fledgling relationship... I still look forward to helping her move (even if it isn't into my place) and visiting her at her new apartment. I just wish it were in walking distance. *love, r.
Saturday, January 17, 2004
pardon my squidfingers
This inclement weather makes me want to sleeeeeeeeep. After work yesterday, my plan to go job hunting was thwarted by the rain and my exhaustion. I was so tired I slept right through an appointment I had with a grad student who was looking for some title design work done for a pre/thesis film - one of two meetings - since I missed the first he was kind enough to call and schedule another later that day. I made it and showed some of the tiny projects I'd made in my animation class last semester. He seemed to find the work decent enough. I'm excited to be doing some title work that I can conceivably add to my miniature but growing reel.
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I've also been working steadily on the Austin Zine Library website. I agreed to help with it in august of last year, got busy with school, designed one version, decided to spring for hosting for the site in december and finally completed one iteration last week - and I fucking hate it. I stumbled upon some web design reviews and they got me thinking about the formating. I've now scrapped and redesigned the site something like 4 four times and now am starting to seek out models in other sites (read looking for some nice css to modify), falling back on my usual design methodology. Blah. Rain. Boo. *r
This inclement weather makes me want to sleeeeeeeeep. After work yesterday, my plan to go job hunting was thwarted by the rain and my exhaustion. I was so tired I slept right through an appointment I had with a grad student who was looking for some title design work done for a pre/thesis film - one of two meetings - since I missed the first he was kind enough to call and schedule another later that day. I made it and showed some of the tiny projects I'd made in my animation class last semester. He seemed to find the work decent enough. I'm excited to be doing some title work that I can conceivably add to my miniature but growing reel.
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I've also been working steadily on the Austin Zine Library website. I agreed to help with it in august of last year, got busy with school, designed one version, decided to spring for hosting for the site in december and finally completed one iteration last week - and I fucking hate it. I stumbled upon some web design reviews and they got me thinking about the formating. I've now scrapped and redesigned the site something like 4 four times and now am starting to seek out models in other sites (read looking for some nice css to modify), falling back on my usual design methodology. Blah. Rain. Boo. *r
Friday, January 16, 2004
his scandalous career
I had to leave after the first set of the clarksville jazz session held tonight so I could ensure that I'd get back to my place in time to grab my stuff and catch the bus to work. The wet street, the damp, chill air, the handful of drinks buzzing in my belly and the muted trumpet still blowing in my ear all made me blink with nervous delight and love for my city at night. I passed one of the many newly constructed apartment buildings on fifth street and for a moment contemplated the rent and getting a second job to pay it until I caught myself. I love this place but I can't stay here any longer. *love, r.
I had to leave after the first set of the clarksville jazz session held tonight so I could ensure that I'd get back to my place in time to grab my stuff and catch the bus to work. The wet street, the damp, chill air, the handful of drinks buzzing in my belly and the muted trumpet still blowing in my ear all made me blink with nervous delight and love for my city at night. I passed one of the many newly constructed apartment buildings on fifth street and for a moment contemplated the rent and getting a second job to pay it until I caught myself. I love this place but I can't stay here any longer. *love, r.
Monday, January 12, 2004
alone against tomorrow
The creative intellect struggles against this sorry reality. Pressing with unflagging intensity against the shuddering membrane of alienation, against the interface between himself and freedom of the soul, the artist tries to gain an exit with the magics of words and movements and colors. Yet all around him the inexorable inertia of the alienated society finds the strength to keep rolling, grinding, crushing. It would seem only the mind of the madman is free. - Harlan Ellison Los Angeles, January, 1970 |
Thursday, January 8, 2004
Sunday, January 4, 2004
life of leaves
Home after a sleepless adventure with Monstro today I decided it best not to bother trying to squeeze in a nap before going to mass. I didn't want to miss my last opportunity of the night to go to church. I began busying myself with tidying my apartment and struck upon an idea while sweeping my modest patio. A pile of dry leaves had collected in the corner of the space so I gathered the flatest and most sturdy of the group, sat myself on the floor outside my bathroom and proceded to write on them the elements of my life I would like to see change over the course of the new year. This is no easy task, I'll have you know, writing on dry, brittle leaves, but that made it all the more satisfying. I filled my pockets with them and as I walked to church let the breeze carry them off. How's that for a symbolic gesture? Happy New Year, everyone. *love, r.
Home after a sleepless adventure with Monstro today I decided it best not to bother trying to squeeze in a nap before going to mass. I didn't want to miss my last opportunity of the night to go to church. I began busying myself with tidying my apartment and struck upon an idea while sweeping my modest patio. A pile of dry leaves had collected in the corner of the space so I gathered the flatest and most sturdy of the group, sat myself on the floor outside my bathroom and proceded to write on them the elements of my life I would like to see change over the course of the new year. This is no easy task, I'll have you know, writing on dry, brittle leaves, but that made it all the more satisfying. I filled my pockets with them and as I walked to church let the breeze carry them off. How's that for a symbolic gesture? Happy New Year, everyone. *love, r.
Saturday, January 3, 2004
tipsy mcstagger's night out
I certainly didn't believe it when I saw it: a Friday night off. With last Sunday's little mishap, I had to call and double check before I started drinking. A Friday night off and of course my girl is out of town and I had nothing to do. I made some calls but I got no replies. Perhaps I was overly excited about going out. Against my better judgement I had bought some new clothes and suddenly, the vision of me sitting on my futon drinking alone in my new pants depressed the hell out of me. In the 12 blocks to the liquor store, I traversed the entire breadth of my emotions. By the time I got back to my apartment I was on the downslope of my personality crisis. Mou called and plans were made. He and Shell and I hit a couple of dive bars in search of a pool table before giving up and going to sixth street to visit Nathan who was bouncing at Spill. I quickly set to the task of getting fully loaded... And I succeeded. Plastered and jocular, I let my guard down for one minute and wound up at a gay club. Thankfully, I didn't embarrass myself to badly, but now my brain feels wrung out and is knocking about in my dry skull.
I certainly didn't believe it when I saw it: a Friday night off. With last Sunday's little mishap, I had to call and double check before I started drinking. A Friday night off and of course my girl is out of town and I had nothing to do. I made some calls but I got no replies. Perhaps I was overly excited about going out. Against my better judgement I had bought some new clothes and suddenly, the vision of me sitting on my futon drinking alone in my new pants depressed the hell out of me. In the 12 blocks to the liquor store, I traversed the entire breadth of my emotions. By the time I got back to my apartment I was on the downslope of my personality crisis. Mou called and plans were made. He and Shell and I hit a couple of dive bars in search of a pool table before giving up and going to sixth street to visit Nathan who was bouncing at Spill. I quickly set to the task of getting fully loaded... And I succeeded. Plastered and jocular, I let my guard down for one minute and wound up at a gay club. Thankfully, I didn't embarrass myself to badly, but now my brain feels wrung out and is knocking about in my dry skull.
Thursday, January 1, 2004
a concrete canal in mortopolis
Imprudence during the holiday scheduling scramble bestowed on me a graveyard shift New Year's Eve followed by an afternoon shift on New Years day. Home after my night shift, I slept unsteadily for only a few hours because Sunday I had stumbled in two hours late and today feared that I'd oversleep and leave the same guy stranded again. I dawdled then started wandering, an hour to kill before work. I stalked the trajectory of my regular bus downtown, waiting for it to catch up with me. After I lingered briefly at one stop and began feeling stagnant, I boarded an unfamiliar bus just to be in motion. I got off on the far side of the cemetery adjacent to the hotel. My plan was to cut through and loiter about, reading the headstones as I made my way to work but its area is surrounded by an eight-foot, razor wire-topped fence. The place is enormous in a way that can only be realized when trying to get around something. It is a city for the dead with parks, skyscraper tombstones and mausoleum condos. Through the center runs a shallow drainage canal, a damp concrete arroyo Styx. It seemed somehow appropriate on this gloomy first day of a new year to be sleepwalking around an immense graveyard. But instead of just groping my way around the fence line, I should have dived under the fence where it met the canal and ran down its breadth. That would have been the cool symbolic gesture that I was looking to start the New Year with, but it didn't occur to me until I was halfway through the lobby. Damn. Oh well I guess I'll just ceremoniously burn something. *love, r.
Imprudence during the holiday scheduling scramble bestowed on me a graveyard shift New Year's Eve followed by an afternoon shift on New Years day. Home after my night shift, I slept unsteadily for only a few hours because Sunday I had stumbled in two hours late and today feared that I'd oversleep and leave the same guy stranded again. I dawdled then started wandering, an hour to kill before work. I stalked the trajectory of my regular bus downtown, waiting for it to catch up with me. After I lingered briefly at one stop and began feeling stagnant, I boarded an unfamiliar bus just to be in motion. I got off on the far side of the cemetery adjacent to the hotel. My plan was to cut through and loiter about, reading the headstones as I made my way to work but its area is surrounded by an eight-foot, razor wire-topped fence. The place is enormous in a way that can only be realized when trying to get around something. It is a city for the dead with parks, skyscraper tombstones and mausoleum condos. Through the center runs a shallow drainage canal, a damp concrete arroyo Styx. It seemed somehow appropriate on this gloomy first day of a new year to be sleepwalking around an immense graveyard. But instead of just groping my way around the fence line, I should have dived under the fence where it met the canal and ran down its breadth. That would have been the cool symbolic gesture that I was looking to start the New Year with, but it didn't occur to me until I was halfway through the lobby. Damn. Oh well I guess I'll just ceremoniously burn something. *love, r.
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