Oh this week. I think everyone I know is stressed out by this very coming week, even though we all have different stress reasons. Finals at UNM, moving, gas prices in SLC, trip planning, future planning, GAH. It's a frantic feeling, though it's how things seem to go. You're either sitting at home bored and sad with yourself because you have nothing to do (oh that's me), or you're freaking out with the amount of stuff to accomplish. I guess I prefer the freak out.
I have officially met my songwriting guru triumvirate as of Thursday night...the elusive 3rd member made her way into the state and things worked out (Kristyn on the left who is holding her very own copy of "failed cartographer" hehhehheh). That was pretty cool. I pretty much have no future goals or plans now.
JUST KIDDING. Some days I kind of wish I was one of those kids who peaked in high school. Mostly I'm glad I didn't. The day I run out of replacement goals is the day I should lock myself in the walk-in freezer at the Radisson Hotel and never come out.
I need a job. DANGIT.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Trippin'
Tomorrow, Miss B. and I set off for Alamogordo. Home of white sand, Caliche's, and close to the INN OF THE MOUNTAIN GODS (you can't say that name without booming it out) resort and casino. We will be trekking to the casino so that Beth can get her grandma plastered...I mean...so that Beth and her Grandma can spend quality time together (hehheh), and so I can see my favorite trio'd group o' Nashvillians...Shedaisy. WOOHOO! The last two times I have seen them live, I have had kind of cruddy seats. Or had to sit through teenagers two-stepping at the State Fair (not cool). This time, I think the venue is more intimate and my seats had better be an improvement from Tingley "Cow Palace" Coliseum. Not that I ask much.
Otherwise, Ben and I played a successful gig at the UNM Sustainability Fair today -- we sold 4 CDs and those are good times. It took us about a year to get rid of the 100 copies of our first album...which was pretty good. This time, the CD has been "available" for a month and we've already sold over half. Which means I gotta get more printed. And more of the old CD. Why do things cost money? :) But it's all good news.
Beth and I can't get enough of driving around, so we leave for Austin Scouting next week. I will see apartments...we'll see some concerts...we'll stay in Buda which is so NOT pronounced correctly in Texas...good times. Hello 12-hour drive.
Otherwise, Ben and I played a successful gig at the UNM Sustainability Fair today -- we sold 4 CDs and those are good times. It took us about a year to get rid of the 100 copies of our first album...which was pretty good. This time, the CD has been "available" for a month and we've already sold over half. Which means I gotta get more printed. And more of the old CD. Why do things cost money? :) But it's all good news.
Beth and I can't get enough of driving around, so we leave for Austin Scouting next week. I will see apartments...we'll see some concerts...we'll stay in Buda which is so NOT pronounced correctly in Texas...good times. Hello 12-hour drive.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Zia'd
Hm. Well, I have gone through several phases, each increasingly shorter...all leading to yesterday, affectionately called "The Day of the Ink."
The first phase was easy. Steph and I made a bit of a pact to get tattoos together when she returned from Africa. This was about 3 years ago, and it popped up in my mind occasionally during those years. Enough that I had kind of an idea of the design I wanted.
Then Steph came back and we talked about it a little, though I wasn't sure it was going to happen. I did attempt to solidify my design choice, however.
Then, all of the sudden...now was the time to do it. I realized that while I had chosen a Zia sun with 3 rays on each side, I had no clue where I wanted it. Enter another bout of agonized decision making...equally important as "what?" is "WHERE?" For real. Once I arrived at my inside ankle area as being suitable (both visible and concealable), I was ok again.
Then...we actually MADE APPOINTMENTS. Enter total freak out mode. What will my parents think? What will other people think? Will I regret it immediately? Will I regret it in 20 years? Will it HURT? Will I cry?
I did not sleep well the night before. Then, they called to reschedule our evening appointment to the next day...postponing it further and causing yet another night of restless slumber. The next morning I ate some cereal, Steph and Joaquin came to pick me up, and I had a queasy feeling in my stomach the whole way there, while signing the permission form, and while sitting in the chair (like a dentist chair except...cooler).
We met Alex, our tattoo artist, a very nice guy and who actually had my zia all drawn out for me ahead of time in the perfect size! Yes. I liked that. So he got his ink and his needle-y thing all ready and I braced myself for the worst. The motor starts whirring, and suddenly..a little poking on my skin. Hm. Not so bad at all. Hey, I can handle this.
At this point, I'm not sure whether it was the sudden adrenaline release or what, but I realized I was happy with my decision and happy I was in the company of two lifelong friends, who would always remain so even if we aren't going to be in the same state for much longer. Alex went over the design about 4 times, and the 3rd time hurt the most. I cringed, but no crying. Phew. Steph and I traded places and she got her awesome inking done...and off we trekked into the world, with a little bit more to us than when we went in. Aftercare seems pretty simple as mine is so tiny, it's a bit red and there is a little bruising around it...otherwise, no problem! People, including my parents, seem ok with it. It all turned out ok.
I got a zia because I plan to be leaving New Mexico very soon, but we're not parting on bad terms. I've lived here since I was 4 and it has given me many, many opportunities and people that I cherish. As for the rays, each set of 3 means something different, and it would take me a while to explain exactly what. I will say that I decided one set of "3" represents a three year time span. I've gotten a lot accomplished in the past 3 years...and I learned you can change a lot in a promising way. You can morph into someone a little different or someone completely opposite, if that's what you need to do. It's a little bit of hope and forward-thinking attached to a little bit of home, wherever I go. :)
The first phase was easy. Steph and I made a bit of a pact to get tattoos together when she returned from Africa. This was about 3 years ago, and it popped up in my mind occasionally during those years. Enough that I had kind of an idea of the design I wanted.
Then Steph came back and we talked about it a little, though I wasn't sure it was going to happen. I did attempt to solidify my design choice, however.
Then, all of the sudden...now was the time to do it. I realized that while I had chosen a Zia sun with 3 rays on each side, I had no clue where I wanted it. Enter another bout of agonized decision making...equally important as "what?" is "WHERE?" For real. Once I arrived at my inside ankle area as being suitable (both visible and concealable), I was ok again.
Then...we actually MADE APPOINTMENTS. Enter total freak out mode. What will my parents think? What will other people think? Will I regret it immediately? Will I regret it in 20 years? Will it HURT? Will I cry?
I did not sleep well the night before. Then, they called to reschedule our evening appointment to the next day...postponing it further and causing yet another night of restless slumber. The next morning I ate some cereal, Steph and Joaquin came to pick me up, and I had a queasy feeling in my stomach the whole way there, while signing the permission form, and while sitting in the chair (like a dentist chair except...cooler).
We met Alex, our tattoo artist, a very nice guy and who actually had my zia all drawn out for me ahead of time in the perfect size! Yes. I liked that. So he got his ink and his needle-y thing all ready and I braced myself for the worst. The motor starts whirring, and suddenly..a little poking on my skin. Hm. Not so bad at all. Hey, I can handle this.
At this point, I'm not sure whether it was the sudden adrenaline release or what, but I realized I was happy with my decision and happy I was in the company of two lifelong friends, who would always remain so even if we aren't going to be in the same state for much longer. Alex went over the design about 4 times, and the 3rd time hurt the most. I cringed, but no crying. Phew. Steph and I traded places and she got her awesome inking done...and off we trekked into the world, with a little bit more to us than when we went in. Aftercare seems pretty simple as mine is so tiny, it's a bit red and there is a little bruising around it...otherwise, no problem! People, including my parents, seem ok with it. It all turned out ok.
I got a zia because I plan to be leaving New Mexico very soon, but we're not parting on bad terms. I've lived here since I was 4 and it has given me many, many opportunities and people that I cherish. As for the rays, each set of 3 means something different, and it would take me a while to explain exactly what. I will say that I decided one set of "3" represents a three year time span. I've gotten a lot accomplished in the past 3 years...and I learned you can change a lot in a promising way. You can morph into someone a little different or someone completely opposite, if that's what you need to do. It's a little bit of hope and forward-thinking attached to a little bit of home, wherever I go. :)
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Oh it's Going
I will start by saying that if you buy Trader Joe's Thai chile lime peanuts, DO NOT EAT the actual chiles in it unless you have gallons of water handy. Eesh. Otherwise, that place is awesome. It is cheap, the food is all natural (i.e. lacking strange ingredients whose sole purpose is to make things last 50 years)...with a sense of humor. The sign for the yogurt section says, "Get a little culture in your life!" Hahaha.
Also, has anyone noticed that if you switch to the 5:00 local news at 5:00, they have already started? They begin at like 4:55 now! As if they can beat the other stations to reporting things. Well guess what, Channel 4. If I'm watching Oprah, I'm going to miss the first 5 minutes of your newscast anyway, so it's not like I'm impressed with your aheadness. Cuz I missed it.
I'm not one to bring up my own lyrics or anything, but I think the truest line I have ever written is, "patience comes to those who wait." How horribly, horribly ironic is that? All I do these days is wait...and it's not TOO exceptionally painful, but a little less antsy-ness on my part would be swell, I think. Otherwise the weather's great, and there's much to look forward to. Let's Spring Clean, shall we?
Also, has anyone noticed that if you switch to the 5:00 local news at 5:00, they have already started? They begin at like 4:55 now! As if they can beat the other stations to reporting things. Well guess what, Channel 4. If I'm watching Oprah, I'm going to miss the first 5 minutes of your newscast anyway, so it's not like I'm impressed with your aheadness. Cuz I missed it.
I'm not one to bring up my own lyrics or anything, but I think the truest line I have ever written is, "patience comes to those who wait." How horribly, horribly ironic is that? All I do these days is wait...and it's not TOO exceptionally painful, but a little less antsy-ness on my part would be swell, I think. Otherwise the weather's great, and there's much to look forward to. Let's Spring Clean, shall we?
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Running from La Migra
...and other road trip tales.
Our trip to Juarez was successful, and I don't even have food poisoning yet. Good times! Steph, Joaquin, and I set out in the uber-fancy "Oldsmobile Intrigue" and drove ourselves to Las Cruces last night, listening to Dane Cook all the way. Well, I missed half a disc with a little back seat nap, but I got the jist. We arrived at the house of Steph's aunt and promptly went to dinner, ate a LOT of Mexican food, strolled around "Old Town Las Cruces" which is so old it literally SHUTS DOWN at 10 PM on a Friday...and then slept.
This morning I awoke with my nagging headache (probably from my head bouncing around in the backseat mid-nap) completely gone, and we set off for Old El Paso. Oh that silly border town where they think they make good salsa. We parked downtown and went...well, South. Where else do you go when you wanna go to Mexico? Avoiding the $12.50 trolley that we estimated would drive us a whole 300 feet, we crossed the border and were plunged into a land...a whole lot like the ABQ flea market. If I am ever in the market for a cheap pair of Nikes..I'm going to Juarez. Puma t-shirt? Juarez. Chile powder covered mango? Juarez. We scoped the place out for a few hours, bought some gorditas (not the Taco Bell kind) on the plaza, went to a mercado, and I had the most delicious coconut ice cream bar on the planet. I am going back just for that succulent homage to God's invention of the tropical nut. Mmm creamy white goodness.
Anyway, we hit the road about 3:00 and started back for the Burque. El Paso to Las Cruces is about 40 miles, and then a good 10 miles out of the city we FINALLY hit La Migra...the border patrol. There are probably several factors that caused this next turn of events, the main ones being...
1. I was driving, and the driver's side window is busted and therefore will not roll down. So Joaquin had to roll his down in the backseat and talk to the guard while I sat there looking shifty.
2. Joaquin is...well, not white.
3. We are all 20-something. 20-somethings do drugs.
So the guard asked us where we were, we told him Juarez. "Why did you go to Juarez? Were you partying?" Um...no. We just went there this morning. "So you were only there for three hours? Why did you even go?" Um...for the food and the culture and TO GET OUT OF THE STATE. "Get out of the car."
Oh fine. So we got out, and while the drug sniffing dog gave the Oldsmobile (such a drug dealer car) the sniff-over, another...this time more combatative...guard gave us the once over (thrice over?) and again...we really just went to Juarez for the food. And to buy Steph's mom a blanket. They realized we were ok when the dog got really bored sniffing our stuff, and they sent us on our merry way. My favorite moment of the trip? Turning to Steph in the front seat as I drove out of the station, saying, "Woo! Experience!" and giving her a high five. At which point we realized...THAT looked shifty. So I accelerated the heck on out of there before they could throw spikes out on the road because we looked like we had just pulled a fast one on La Migra.
Farther on down the road, we stopped at a gas station/A&W /Long John Silver's (I kid you not) in Belen. All of us were intrigued by the lobster bites, and while waiting for our crustacean nuggets, the nice employee guy looks at us and goes, "Are you from here?" We said not really, that we were from Albuquerque. He looks again and says, "Oh. You guys look like drifters. Like you've travelled." At which point Steph goes into detail about how they were living in Africa, and are moving to New York City, and we just got back from Mexico, and oh this one over here is a songwriter moving to Austin, and we've just done a month-long road trip to Seattle. This kid got the biggest eyes, and he told us about his aunt that writes plays in New York, and you could tell he wanted out of that A&W uniform right that second to travel the world.
We got our lobster bites and left, and I hope that kid does travel one day. I hope he gets some buddies and drives somewhere and stops at crappy gas stations and laughs so hard he can't steer straight. We also left wondering what made us look like drifters...the sunburn from Mexico? Our pant legs dirty from Juarez dust?
Maybe it was just the Oldsmobile Intrigue.
Our trip to Juarez was successful, and I don't even have food poisoning yet. Good times! Steph, Joaquin, and I set out in the uber-fancy "Oldsmobile Intrigue" and drove ourselves to Las Cruces last night, listening to Dane Cook all the way. Well, I missed half a disc with a little back seat nap, but I got the jist. We arrived at the house of Steph's aunt and promptly went to dinner, ate a LOT of Mexican food, strolled around "Old Town Las Cruces" which is so old it literally SHUTS DOWN at 10 PM on a Friday...and then slept.
This morning I awoke with my nagging headache (probably from my head bouncing around in the backseat mid-nap) completely gone, and we set off for Old El Paso. Oh that silly border town where they think they make good salsa. We parked downtown and went...well, South. Where else do you go when you wanna go to Mexico? Avoiding the $12.50 trolley that we estimated would drive us a whole 300 feet, we crossed the border and were plunged into a land...a whole lot like the ABQ flea market. If I am ever in the market for a cheap pair of Nikes..I'm going to Juarez. Puma t-shirt? Juarez. Chile powder covered mango? Juarez. We scoped the place out for a few hours, bought some gorditas (not the Taco Bell kind) on the plaza, went to a mercado, and I had the most delicious coconut ice cream bar on the planet. I am going back just for that succulent homage to God's invention of the tropical nut. Mmm creamy white goodness.
Anyway, we hit the road about 3:00 and started back for the Burque. El Paso to Las Cruces is about 40 miles, and then a good 10 miles out of the city we FINALLY hit La Migra...the border patrol. There are probably several factors that caused this next turn of events, the main ones being...
1. I was driving, and the driver's side window is busted and therefore will not roll down. So Joaquin had to roll his down in the backseat and talk to the guard while I sat there looking shifty.
2. Joaquin is...well, not white.
3. We are all 20-something. 20-somethings do drugs.
So the guard asked us where we were, we told him Juarez. "Why did you go to Juarez? Were you partying?" Um...no. We just went there this morning. "So you were only there for three hours? Why did you even go?" Um...for the food and the culture and TO GET OUT OF THE STATE. "Get out of the car."
Oh fine. So we got out, and while the drug sniffing dog gave the Oldsmobile (such a drug dealer car) the sniff-over, another...this time more combatative...guard gave us the once over (thrice over?) and again...we really just went to Juarez for the food. And to buy Steph's mom a blanket. They realized we were ok when the dog got really bored sniffing our stuff, and they sent us on our merry way. My favorite moment of the trip? Turning to Steph in the front seat as I drove out of the station, saying, "Woo! Experience!" and giving her a high five. At which point we realized...THAT looked shifty. So I accelerated the heck on out of there before they could throw spikes out on the road because we looked like we had just pulled a fast one on La Migra.
Farther on down the road, we stopped at a gas station/A&W /Long John Silver's (I kid you not) in Belen. All of us were intrigued by the lobster bites, and while waiting for our crustacean nuggets, the nice employee guy looks at us and goes, "Are you from here?" We said not really, that we were from Albuquerque. He looks again and says, "Oh. You guys look like drifters. Like you've travelled." At which point Steph goes into detail about how they were living in Africa, and are moving to New York City, and we just got back from Mexico, and oh this one over here is a songwriter moving to Austin, and we've just done a month-long road trip to Seattle. This kid got the biggest eyes, and he told us about his aunt that writes plays in New York, and you could tell he wanted out of that A&W uniform right that second to travel the world.
We got our lobster bites and left, and I hope that kid does travel one day. I hope he gets some buddies and drives somewhere and stops at crappy gas stations and laughs so hard he can't steer straight. We also left wondering what made us look like drifters...the sunburn from Mexico? Our pant legs dirty from Juarez dust?
Maybe it was just the Oldsmobile Intrigue.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Progress.
So I can either be an Informational Writer, an Admissions Counselor, or a Performing Arts Management Fellow in Austin. This is IF they like my resume. And call me. And stuff. So really, those are basically the three jobs I was qualified for on UT campus to apply for. There was one other one which sounded kind of cool -- career advisement, but they require a spelling test and I kind of have to be in Austin to take it. When really, I've won spelling bees. Can't I just send them my ribbons?
I need to find other things to apply for. Also, I need to pay bills, but I don't want to work 40 hours a week. This is a problem. Also I need to write "letters of interest" for said jobs.
Also, I saw Bob Dylan last night. Tingley Coliseum should be banned from having concerts in it, because people are cattle and hey, Guy With Beer in row 36...Bob can't see you salute his badassedness with your raised beer cup from 200 feet away. So stop it.
But anyway...Bob Dylan won me over regardless of stupid crowds and bad seating. He actually played "The Times They Are A'Changin," "All Along the Watchtower," "Like A Rolling Stone," and "Lay Lady Lay" -- which I was not expecting because I heard he was doing more obscure stuff on his tours lately, and really...if you have 40 years of material to choose from, you have a LOT of material. So I like Bob. And in some ways it almost seemed like cheating...to see this troubador of the 60's folk movement in a large arena with seats courtesy of Ticketmaster. But then again, Dylan was never "just" folk, and he never really was about "peace and love." That's just when he happened to catch on to American consciousness, and he's had a very winding and varied career since then. So it's all good, and I went home happy.
I need to find other things to apply for. Also, I need to pay bills, but I don't want to work 40 hours a week. This is a problem. Also I need to write "letters of interest" for said jobs.
Also, I saw Bob Dylan last night. Tingley Coliseum should be banned from having concerts in it, because people are cattle and hey, Guy With Beer in row 36...Bob can't see you salute his badassedness with your raised beer cup from 200 feet away. So stop it.
But anyway...Bob Dylan won me over regardless of stupid crowds and bad seating. He actually played "The Times They Are A'Changin," "All Along the Watchtower," "Like A Rolling Stone," and "Lay Lady Lay" -- which I was not expecting because I heard he was doing more obscure stuff on his tours lately, and really...if you have 40 years of material to choose from, you have a LOT of material. So I like Bob. And in some ways it almost seemed like cheating...to see this troubador of the 60's folk movement in a large arena with seats courtesy of Ticketmaster. But then again, Dylan was never "just" folk, and he never really was about "peace and love." That's just when he happened to catch on to American consciousness, and he's had a very winding and varied career since then. So it's all good, and I went home happy.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Me at 16
I am deleting files off a bunch of floppy discs that have been sitting in my room for a looong long time...who uses floppy discs any more anyway? So I find a file called, "Goals" from May, 1999. I was 16 years old at the time...and clearly a kid with crazy ideas in her head (much like now). Here are my 1999 goals, and my subsequent commentary on whether I accomplished them or even care to any more:
1. To live in Ireland. Hrm. I guess I was fascinated with Europe at the time, and greenery, and Irish accents. I would definitely like to VISIT before I decide to live there. Also, I've lost that "live abroad" itch for the time being, for whatever reason.
2. To make money playing music. Well...I've done it. I probably meant as a steady income, though at 16, I would probably have been impressed with ANYTHING...like tips!
3. To publish a book of poems. Yeah not so much. I do like poetry. I kind of quit writing it, though. I feel like...to be a poet, you have to BE A POET. You can't just scratch around and write random poems and call yourself a poet. At least I can't anyway. That's something I'd need to dedicate more time to.
4. To make a CD of my own. Check and check. Two CDs down, more to go?
5. Not be so dependent on friends. What's up with that? Still have that problem, I guess. I suck. But who CAN you depend on?
6. To have a studio in my house. Haha one day. The dream lives on.
7. To survive Finals 1999. Apparently I did...cuz I'm here. That would have been geometry and the hardest sophomore English class at Manzano. Eesh.
8. To meet Shawn Colvin. Well, I saw Shawn leaving the Lensic Theater when Jamie and I went to see her and we told her that the show was "kickass." And Shawn said thanks...but is that really "meeting"?
9. To meet Mary Chapin Carpenter. CHECK. I always was all about meeting my musical heroes. MCC is probably the most elusive one, too...because she's the most "famous" of my favorites (she's not going to play at a house concert, that's for sure) and she does not frequent New Mexico. So I had to fly to Atlanta, where I lucked out with a backstage pass. Heckyeeeahs.
There we go. I've done all right. I'm pretty sure I had other goals going on at the time but who knows what they were. Maybe I'll make another list and pull it out in 7 years. You never know what will happen.
1. To live in Ireland. Hrm. I guess I was fascinated with Europe at the time, and greenery, and Irish accents. I would definitely like to VISIT before I decide to live there. Also, I've lost that "live abroad" itch for the time being, for whatever reason.
2. To make money playing music. Well...I've done it. I probably meant as a steady income, though at 16, I would probably have been impressed with ANYTHING...like tips!
3. To publish a book of poems. Yeah not so much. I do like poetry. I kind of quit writing it, though. I feel like...to be a poet, you have to BE A POET. You can't just scratch around and write random poems and call yourself a poet. At least I can't anyway. That's something I'd need to dedicate more time to.
4. To make a CD of my own. Check and check. Two CDs down, more to go?
5. Not be so dependent on friends. What's up with that? Still have that problem, I guess. I suck. But who CAN you depend on?
6. To have a studio in my house. Haha one day. The dream lives on.
7. To survive Finals 1999. Apparently I did...cuz I'm here. That would have been geometry and the hardest sophomore English class at Manzano. Eesh.
8. To meet Shawn Colvin. Well, I saw Shawn leaving the Lensic Theater when Jamie and I went to see her and we told her that the show was "kickass." And Shawn said thanks...but is that really "meeting"?
9. To meet Mary Chapin Carpenter. CHECK. I always was all about meeting my musical heroes. MCC is probably the most elusive one, too...because she's the most "famous" of my favorites (she's not going to play at a house concert, that's for sure) and she does not frequent New Mexico. So I had to fly to Atlanta, where I lucked out with a backstage pass. Heckyeeeahs.
There we go. I've done all right. I'm pretty sure I had other goals going on at the time but who knows what they were. Maybe I'll make another list and pull it out in 7 years. You never know what will happen.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Blah Blah Blah.
I'm humidifying the crap out of my room, because my guitars need it. I am such a tool. I had issues with the neck on my Martin in December, and it finally got all happy again, and then I left the state for like a month and it got really dry again and the neck started dipping and the top started caving and why is every term that guitarists use somehow strange in normal conversation? So anyway, my skin will probably ROCK on the moisture front because of my musical instruments. Meh.
I just engaged in a little Retail Therapy and got a Johnny Cash anthology 2-disc set. That man was so cool. I'm glad I wasn't born Johnny Cash because I'd be dead, and a man, and a former drug addict...but he was cool. This, however, brings up the OTHER main annoyance of my life which is...I have no income. And everything social in this town involves forking money over like it was Lucky Charms on the Irish Cereal Parade Route. Or something. I used to justify it with, "I get paid in a week." No more!
The more I talk to people about finally biting the credit card bullet or having student loans or paying cable TV bills...the more I want to drop off the grid. The idea of drowning in monthly bills ain't my idea of "adulthood." I know this is not possible in the 21st century in the good old US, and it's not like I want to live in in a hut in The Amazon or anything...but life is just too complicated to be healthy anymore. That oh so healthy "credit" which basically equates "Massive Debt" these days cannot be good for the soul. Or the heart. Or the liver. What gives? Maybe I'll invest in an IRA CD and be responsible. Or maybe I'll just go buy some Starbucks.
I just engaged in a little Retail Therapy and got a Johnny Cash anthology 2-disc set. That man was so cool. I'm glad I wasn't born Johnny Cash because I'd be dead, and a man, and a former drug addict...but he was cool. This, however, brings up the OTHER main annoyance of my life which is...I have no income. And everything social in this town involves forking money over like it was Lucky Charms on the Irish Cereal Parade Route. Or something. I used to justify it with, "I get paid in a week." No more!
The more I talk to people about finally biting the credit card bullet or having student loans or paying cable TV bills...the more I want to drop off the grid. The idea of drowning in monthly bills ain't my idea of "adulthood." I know this is not possible in the 21st century in the good old US, and it's not like I want to live in in a hut in The Amazon or anything...but life is just too complicated to be healthy anymore. That oh so healthy "credit" which basically equates "Massive Debt" these days cannot be good for the soul. Or the heart. Or the liver. What gives? Maybe I'll invest in an IRA CD and be responsible. Or maybe I'll just go buy some Starbucks.
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