Author: splicer

… I’m hunt­ing jobs.

Which are of course, more elu­sive than was­cawwy wabbits.

I fig­ure if I can’t bring myself to do the kind of work I have on my plate, that I’d bet­ter take some action to get some oth­er kind of work. This brings up a lot of fear of rejec­tion and all that of course. What if I find a com­pa­ny I’d real­ly like to work for and THEY don’t like ME? A load of horsepucky of course, … Read the rest

I seem to be hav­ing tremen­dous dif­fi­cul­ty in get­ting any­thing done that makes me any mon­ey. I hate to think that my dis­dain for mon­ey runs so deep that it com­pro­mis­es my abil­i­ty to do things I would enjoy if I weren’t mak­ing mon­ey from them.

We fin­ished Cool Beans! about a week ago, and I’m very proud of the work that I did on it, and of course pleased with every­one else’s work but the uni­verse revolves around ME here … Read the rest

Well, today my prob­lems are a lot less than they were a cou­ple days ago.

First: I have an apart­ment! I signed the rental agree­ment yes­ter­day, so now all I have to do is get my stuff into it. This is prov­ing to be more dif­fi­cult than I had first thought. The per­son who had agreed to take a cou­ple loads of stuff for­got some pre­vi­ous engage­ments today and won’t be able to move things until after dark tonight, and I … Read the rest

So last night I went to the gym, and what an amaz­ing dif­fer­ence some good (or bad) moti­va­tion can do! It was unbe­liev­able. For a while after Vik­ki and I split I would watch myself in the mir­ror telling myself I was build­ing the body SHE CAN’T HAVE. Which was great. It kept some fire in me and I made some pret­ty decent progress in a short while.

This tech­nique helped a lot of things. One of the rea­sons that Vik­ki … Read the rest

There’s this Sting song on Brand new Day called Fill her up which sounds kind of annoy­ing because Sting does this imi­ta­tion of an Amer­i­can accent, but it tells a sto­ry which real­ly res­onates with me.

It’s about a guy who works at a gas sta­tion in the mid­dle of nowhere and some city slick­er shows up in a fan­cy sports­car tak­ing his hot babe fiancee to Vegas to get mar­ried («yeah, that’s a real dia­mond»). The teller of the sto­ry … Read the rest

Some­thing about Macarthur Park sums up how I’ve been feel­ing late­ly. Who was the ass­hole that left the cake out in the rain? Dammit.

I had a dream last night that I went on a road trip with Ham­mer­head, and that we went «camp­ing» in strangers’ homes. We pulled in to their dri­ve­ways and snuck in to the homes of sub­ur­ban­ites and slept in their guest bed­rooms. Some­times our unwit­ting hosts would pass by the doors on their way to … Read the rest

Watch­ing the lit­tle pud­dles on the roof out­side Des­tiño’s win­dow rip­ple from the rain­drops com­ing down. Makes me want to find my grand­moth­er’s cake recipe, spend hours bak­ing a cake with sweet green icing, throw the recipe away and take the cake out­side and leave it near MacArthur BART.

But I don’t think that I could take it.… Read the rest

Love­ly mete­or show­er last night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them so dra­mat­ic. Feel­ing very for­tu­nate to have bro­ken out of my depres­sion long enough to get out of the house and go on a lit­tle field trip.

Some­thing inter­est­ing hap­pened last night. I enjoyed the com­pa­ny of a love­ly young woman. I don’t want to make too much of this, because there’s not that much to tell, but some­times I come to a hall­way in my life where I … Read the rest

I must be in the grips of depres­sion, as I’m think­ing about the past.

In par­tic­u­lar, there’s an inci­dent from four years ago, pret­ty close to four years ago to the day. I bought tick­ets to the Rolling Stones show at the Oak­land Col­i­se­um, not because I care much about the Stones, but because I fig­ured that if I had tick­ets to a big pop­u­lar sta­di­um show that per­haps I could get a date. I don’t have any­thing against the Stones, … Read the rest