Say Goodbye

Jobs, other things, interfere. I will start another blog, but not here. See ya, internet.

Holy Shit, Friends

I got a new job (which means I quit this job) and I bought a new car. What the hell has happened to me? I’m all growns up all of the sudden.

Meanwhile, I haven’t been writing shit. I’m stalled in the middle of reading a book. I haven’t even really finished moving yet, my shit is everywhere. Hopefully, once I get my life in order, working regular hours, I can schedule reading and writing into my day somewhere. As of right now however, I’m going kayaking. See ya, suckers!

Interview #4, etc.

Unexpectedly and with incredibly short notice I was interviewed for another job at the same place I work now. I wouldn’t say that it went well, but it went. It was one of those interviews where the interviewer does most of the talking, in this case approaching 99% of total words spoken, and only asks a few questions which are either of the yes/no category, or difficult to answer in 5 words or more. More on that when I hear.

Other developments:

1) I haven’t been reading or writing or even drawing much at all anymore, now that I’m working such odd hours. You need to work on this, Douglas.

2) This blog is incredibly unfocused. I can do one of two things: a) reconfigure, reedit/delete old posts, draft some kind of informal mission statement to which I should adhere when posting–something like “To document my progress in becoming a published writer”–all this other shit about jobs and feeling sorry for myself is really not helping, nor is it interesting in the least; or b) leave it the way it is and stop caring that nobody reads it. That was, by the way, the point. The point of a) would be to actually try to actively cultivate some sort of readership, however insignificant.

3) Some people really don’t understand the concept of blogging. There are so many blogs out there that could just as easily be a static website. A blog about “how to transfer your vinyl collection to mp3 files” shouldn’t be a blog at all. There are no new developments in this area. If you were to graph a “how-to” site across the time axis it should be a dot, not a line. Please, world, stop blogging. Or at least try harder.

4) “Make Money Online” blogs are even worse. The biggest money-making blogs about making money only make money because they are popular, not because they give good advice. Following their advice will not necessarily make you money, unless of course you run a wildly popular “Make Money Online” blog. It’s all tautological nonsense–these blogs have no reason to exist. Unfortunately there are THOUSANDS and THOUSANDS of them.

5) Yes, I understand the irony of criticizing bloggers for blogging, using my own blog as a platform for leveling that criticism. I don’t give shit.

In accordance with item 2a this post may disappear, so savor it while you can.

UPDATE: I just deleted about a third of my old posts, the ones where I was crying into my sleeve about how hard it is to be me. In any case, I think I’ll leave this one, it seems as a good a mission statement as any.

Dicking Around, Less of it.

The house in which my apartment resides is being sold and I will likely be forced to move. Add to this one girlfriend who no longer wishes to live under the same roof as me. What does this mean? MOVING BACK IN WITH MY PARENTS.

FOR THE THIRD TIME.

The upshot (if you can call it that) is that maybe I’ll get more writing (and reading) done. No more dicking around.

UPDATE: I got a second fucking job. Less time for everything and everyone!

Interview #3

Just returned from an interview at a Very Strange Office. The job will probably blow a lot, but it looks as though I might have it in the bag. The job bag.

I’ll know within the week, I’m told. Less time for writing and drawing, more time for repetitive wrist stress and driving too far.

UPDATE: I got the fucking job.

“Remember when is the lowest form of conversation.”

I’ve been taking long walks, thinking, smoking. This is not, surprisingly, productive in any substantive way. I had a few bouts of nostalgia as I passed the “gay little gazebo” where I sat uncomfortably as a clingy girl I no longer fancied clung. And, too, as I passed the high school parking lot; her car occupying a shady corner, and she and I inside, once upon a time, necking. Those were the days, finding secluded areas in which to neck, fondle, and occasionally get caught.

She had strange big eyes and tiny hang-down lumps for breasts. But she always tasted like Lifesavers.

REJECTED, AGAIN

This time I was turned down for a job. This job, specifically. No big deal, didn’t really want it–but honestly, what the fuck? This is what an English degree gets you: fuck all.

REJECTED

Heard back from said well-known internet publication. As you can see, my piece will not be published. Get used to it, Island.

Now to harden my resolve and try again. Resolve, harden thyself!

Interview #2

Second interview in a week. This one promises to be more… promising. Wish me luck.

UPDATE: It went well. Now to wait.

Interview #1

Today I have an interview for a job which may potentially stifle my previously stated pursuits. Wish me (bad) luck.

UPDATE: I came. I saw. I sweated profusely. Next stop: selling out.