F: Give what you can

It has been a busy goddamn week.

Busy, uneventful, exhausting, boring.

Stressful, relaxing.

The opposite but also the same.

Get me?

I've been suffering half-post syndrome a lot lately. After Tuesday's news, I half-wrote a very angsty "what am I doing I have no direction or motivation" post, which I aborted when I realized that I always double back on such feelings, so despite the fact that the week marched on, I took a bit of an SWP hiatus to get my bearings. Get a bit of perspective.

Listen, I won't deny that it's annoying, how I've spent a lot of time trying to get this play right - and in another go I might've gotten it - but now who knows what the future holds. I hate to break my mojo on the new play but this is going to have to be the case at least for now. Prose and academia demands my attention.

On Monday, Aunt Lori was telling me, when I expressed my self-deprecating but earnest anxiety about the future, Aunt Lori affirmed her belief that if you do what you love, the money will follow. It's the kind of thing that, even if I couldn't believe it about myself, I'm glad to hear. It's encouraging.

The week sort of sunk away from me, with Monday being dedicated to the gathering, Wednesday featuring a comic run, a dentist appointment, and then a trip out to Philthy's to visit Cait. I was glad to see her and we got along like old times. I don't know what it is about me, but I'm hardwired to deal well with extreme women. Women who make no secret of their sexuality and chemical predilections. It's not that I prefer those types of women - quite honestly I don't know what use I'd be to one of them - but they bring something out of me that is a lot more fun.

The problem with the night was that she was also being paid much attention by a league of over-thirty (as in years-old, not in number) darts players more desperate for her attention than I was (and considering I went all the way out there to see her, you'd think there must be some desperation at least.)

We drank a lot, largely because every time she bought I drink I ended up with one too, despite my earlier thought that I shouldn't drink much since I was working the next morning at 9. That day ended up going relatively smoothly, though. I spent the whole day counting Blu-Rays. Literally, for 8 hours. I ended up dreaming about them.

Friday was the day I ended up getting most of my relaxation in. Watched movies, did some drawing. That night was Lebowski night. I clipped my $10 off coupon and CB, Chris Ferg, Pat, Adam and I headed down to Classic Bowl, then to the Monk, in CB's new car with not-so-well-functioning brakes. We talked a lot of things, particularly Half-Past and the possibility of a No Way My Life re-mount. Lots of White Russians were consumed - I more or less hectored the gang into a third round, although if they didn't want 'em they wouldn't have taken 'em.

At the end of the night, all tabs settled, I wound up with a counterfeit fiver, according to our waitress. And Pat owes me $7, so I've got to remember that next time he's in town. I considered dropping the five in my deposit at work the next day, but I ended up trying it at the newsstand (for chocolate bars, because I'm an adult like that.)

Saturday and Sunday, the typical weekend shifts. Apparently, Jamie is no longer with us at HMV due to health issues, so we've got a few new staffmates. Not from the temp pool, which is slightly disheartening, but such is life. One girl I've met, so it's nice to have a female coworker again, and some other dude I have yet to meet.

Wednesday night, Cait related to me her relief to be done with HMV, that obviously it was not the ideal job (true) and she was built for her current job. Corporate whore though I am, I've never found a job as rewarding as this one, and I'm happy for her, but I would obviously like to have someone like her around to joke with.

But things are what they are.

I still need time to clear my head. Between the aptly-named Family day, and the Dentist, and work, I had only a few waking hours to get a grip on life. The sad thing is, I've already reached the point of the year where I must confront final papers: first in film, then in drama and the rest of my classes follow.

In search of refreshed music, I bought three albums today: Kooks, which sounds good but lacks certain spiritual qualities; Hawksley Workman, is very busy, maybe overly so, except for the single that played on HMV radio. The real winner was Hollerado's Record in a Bag, which follows through enthusiastically and splendidly on the promise of Juliette (which also plays on HMV radio.) Juliette may be more-or-less the best song on the album, (I haven't confirmed this with a second listen,) but the bulk of the material is up to par, peppy and bright, but smart and sometimes sardonic, the way our generation generally is. Hooky as all motherfuck and without much pretension. Nearly up there with Locksley, just when I was getting tired waiting for the next Locksley album (due out in March.) It plays like a 2010 extrapolation of Third Eye Blind, with all the postgrunge cynicism of Generation X drained to make way for weary romanticism.

Hollerado. Record in a Bag. Investigate. Currently retainling for $10 even.

Anyway. I may have some creative writing in me before I go to bed tonight. I should probably also do some reading. Middlesex, the book we've been assigned (a considerable tome) is an interesting book but I haven't had the kind of time I ought to have.

Sigh.

Lots more later, believe it.

Keep on rockin
-Scott