and sometimes I wish that I could just chop off the chunk of my life that I wasted on you.
I can’t believe I’ve managed to neglect my tumblr for so long.
Things have been alright. My job still sucks, when I actually work that is. I’m on call one day a week. That actually translates to: I don’t work at all. I’ve been out pounding the pavement and nothing. I have bills to pay. They keep telling me at work, “You’re going to get more hours.” Yeah, like that’s going to happen. This camera won’t pay for itself. I’m trying to find places I actually want to work at so maybe this whole “get job, quit job” process won’t happen anymore. This one isn’t my fault, though. I just keep getting fucked. I don’t want to completely sell myself out and work anywhere. I’d like to think I have some choices, but maybe not.
School is alright, the two classes I actually have. Not too much to say there.
My heater is broken. It works during the day but shuts off at night. I’ve been freezing the past few nights. But hey, it’s alright. Should be getting fixed tomorrow.
I’m going back to Boise in a few weeks. So stoked. It’s been too long since I’ve been back. Maybe it’s the thing to hate where you grow up, maybe it’s not, but all I know is that I fucking love Boise. I miss it so bad. We’re going for about a week and I know it’s not going to be long enough. It never is. Excited for the food. I miss Chicago Connection and Flying Pie. So good.
I wish I had more interesting things to write about. But I don’t. I’ve neglected my photography yet again. I’ll get a spark of inspiration and go out and shoot soon. I know it.
I’ve been thinking about going to school in Boston. Berklee. Maybe it’s a little out of league, maybe not. I think I definitely have it in me. I haven’t pulled out my bassoon in almost a year, but I don’t think it will take me long to get it back. My chops are fucking gone, that’s for sure. I’m a little rusty on my high register fingering. But practice, practice, practice.
That’s all I have in me right now. I think I’m going to have a salad for lunch.
The book store and the record store that is. I can never really manage to leave either one without purchasing something. I managed to do it the other night at the record store. I don’t have $180 lying around for the Eluvium boxset that I missed out on. I could’ve had it for $100 shipped, but no. Sold out. And those five down at Waterloo are the last five out of the 1,000 that were pressed. That I know of at least.
I went to the bookstore tonight. Post Office by Bukowski and another collection of odd short stories. The title escapes me, but it sounded great. I’m so excited to read Post Office. It’s my first Bukowski book and I’ve heard nothing but great things.
Books and records, man. Bye money.