oopsie daisy!

ohhh, twice! twice I write this through the stuporous haze of being stupidly blazed past midnight after a long day of not much. it's in between classes where this week really lags as I dodge work with the skill and efficiency of a ninja procrastinator. might go to a concert tomorrow but will probably just not have the energy. goodnight phone, I drift into tomorrow on sounds of billie 

so much for that idea

barely a day in, and already the daily blog has gone out the window. not a real accomplishment but I guess there's no such thing as a game over. i make the laws! i control the narrative! become the ruling body, bitches! mulligan!!! 

Pin Predicament

- FROM THE ARCHIVES! this is from may 2022, back when I was still in high school. current pin situation is more or less the same except now i'm cooler. once a guy asked me what they all meant and i stumbled over a few sentences so that he would go away. -

 

I have a serious issue with regard to pins. I'm chock full of hubris. I always buy some cool pin from a website, or record store, or just laying there on the pavement, and naturally I stick it to the primary Pin Displaying Surface in my life, the little front pocket on my backpack. I have other PDS'es (cool army jacket, beanie) but I like displaying my shit frequently and so they inevitably get plunked down on my backpack, right next to the incredibly cool Suicidal Tendencies patch that I really need to sew on properly. From there, it's a ticking time bomb until the pin is lost to entropy and it disappears off my bag. From memory, I've lost:

- A button that says "SUPPORT PEACE OR I'LL KILL YOU" (vintage)

- A button supporting McGovern in 1972 (also vintage, found in grandparents dresser)

- A button supporting local record store Sweat Records (bought with my own cold hard cash)

- Countless others which I don't remember as clearly

I have an oversized badge of John Waters' head (far too big to fit on a jacket) that I've been saving from this fate for months. It's far too precious to lose, and it has those annoying little clasps on the back that always get pierced and end up poking you every time you need to grab a pencil. I guess there's some life lesson to be learned here - if you love a button, let it go? - but I just think I need to invest in some Krazy Glue or something.

a commitment?

 i'm back! and i'm gonna try to do this daily. a bit more of a diary thing. not long posts, not meaningful posts, but posts nonetheless. got inspired to do this after reading a bunch of old blog posts made by strangers 20 years ago. the landscape of the internet has changed so much since then, but i really connected with what i read - even if i didn't know their name. so, at the end of the day today, what happened? what happened worth writing about? well, if i'm being truthful, not much. woke up at noon-thirty, fucked around, did some writing, had a really sad dinner with a friend, and now i'm gonna play some video games and try to fall asleep before 3 am. see you on the other side.

Hospitality And Pull-Outs

In my extended family, I tend to be the lowest rung on the ladder of sleep. If there's an empty bed, I'm free to take it. But if someone else comes along, I'm quickly shunted off to cot/pullout couch/air mattress/regular couch and stuck, sleeping in the living room to be awakened too early and disturbed repeatedly. It's a minor complaint, sure, but it makes me feel unwanted. At least I haven't had to share a bed with a family member in a while - that's just plain old demeaning.

There's something about a pull-out couch that just sucks. Thrashing around, trying to get the blanket to cover your feet. Waking up sleeping on bare mattress, your fitted sheet coming off halfway through the night and your pillow falling through the couch. I understand why I'm often given this privilege, spry young adult that I am, but it certainly puts a damper on my mood. If I ever become a homeowner, I'm making sure that there are enough beds for everyone.

Give It a Day

It's 3:41 AM as I'm writing this. What is it about boredom in the day that makes night so much more appealing? My roommate got assigned; it's some guy from the panhandle named Ryan who wrestled in high school. The prejudiced part of me assumes he's prejudiced but that's just prejudice talking. I really need to get back on Adderall before I permanently fuck something up in my life. 

Cash, Jackash

 Money's a finicky thing. I recently graduated from high school (fucking shocker, never mentioned it before) and I have come into a large sum of graduation present cash.I am fighting tooth and nail to not spend it all on frivolous luxuries.

In the movie Freddy Got Fingered, a true classic if there ever was one, there's a scene where the protagonist Gord pays a construction worker for a job on his house. It's there that he laments his loss of a million dollars."Easy come, easy go." That's how I feel. Come in with 300 bucks, 200 on a record player, 50 on a record, 35 on a t-shirt. Easy come, easy go.

Keeping Routine

 Blogging is hard as fuck. Oh great, now I have to "sum up" all my "life events"? Kill me. I might as well be keeping a diary. But I have the bookmark sitting in my bookmarks bar, taunting me, and so I might as well continue.

I left off on a bit of a cliffhanger re: orientation. Well guess what? I'm not following up on it. Fuck you. Instead, let me talk about biking. I haven't rode a bike in around 7 years. And, today, I got invited on a bike ride. So, in pursuit of healthiness, I went out and rode a bike. It was hell. I was out of breath, I had to pull over and lie down in the grass, and I generally looked and acted like a damn fool. Turns out, if you're "out of shape", getting "in shape" is hard as hell. But nevertheless, I persisted. I'm gonna be a ripped bro if it kills me. Or, at the very least, I'm going to get doctors to stop pestering me about being "slightly overweight".

College funds are about the most stressful thing on earth. As a Florida citizen going to a Florida school, there's a scholarship I get - Bright Futures - that should pay for 100% of tuition. Emphasis on should. I've basically been ignoring it since graduation, and I'm just hoping that I qualified for the upper tier. Even if I did, it's a generally stressful affair. I got an email saying something in the range of 12,000 dollars was charged to my FSU student account, and even if that's on Uncle Sam's wallet, it's still not a number I'm super comfortable account. It's times like these that I wish my parents moved to Canada instead of Miami.

Insomnia

I'm writing this post from 5:22 AM. Last night, I told myself I'd be asleep by midnight - after all, I have to leave for a flight at 6:30. Well, one thing led to another and I ended up pulling what's known as an "all nighter". It honestly wouldn't be so bad if I had shit to do, but it turns out the real downside of insomnia is the boredom. Maybe I'll sleep on the plane. 

My Love, The Anabas

I have a sizable and well-loved record collection, and there's nothing I'd love more than to have a record player in college to play them on. Dorm life being as it is, I doubt I'd have enough space for a proper turn-table system, so I enter the realm of portable record players. With the vinyl market being as it is (novelties for people who shop at Urban Outfitter), most portable record players manufactured nowadays are cheaply sourced crud. Usually housed in a cheap wooden briefcase and selling for roundabout 40 dollars, these are - to put it gently - dogshit. Not only are they "retro-cool" ugly, with wood grains and pleather and whatnot, but the turntable mechanism is a 5 dollar assembly of ceramic cartridges that will undoubtedly kill any record you play on it. I'm ashamed to say this was my first record player, and the copy of DEVO's "New Traditionalists" that I lost to it will forever be mourned in my heart.

Instead of getting one of those, I've found a very polite little battery-operated player I'm hoping to import. Enter the Anabas GP-N3R. A Japanese import selling in the 200 dollar range on eBay, this is everything I'm looking for. It's got a playfully childlike yet durable plastic design, it comes with a solid AT needle, and most importantly - it's small as shit. This thing can even be played vertically, if one so desires. You can wall mount it. I may be salivating.

Last Day of High School

 First off, COVID Update: Had COVID. Got better. Happy?

Second-of-ly, I am coming to you live from my official last day of high school. I'm sitting in the back of my favorite teacher's class, in the storage area with all the cameras, with all my friends getting stoned. I'm not getting stoned. I've got responsibilities. Indeed, last day of school and I have some bullshit to deal with. I have to pick up my graduation cords (teacher who was supposed to give them out is absent) and I have to submit community service hours (I forgot to do that and today's the last day). Go me. Fuck it, we ball. I'm glad I'm never going to have to come here again.

Illness Gamble

I think my mom was one of the OG COVID Superspreaders. In February of 2020, she took a trip to New York, and ended up stuck at home with a mysterious illness that lasted about two weeks. Fun times. Now, in a shocking turn of events, I may have become a superspreader myself. My dad came home last night all "Bad news, guys! I got COVID! Oops!" I didn't think much of it - sucks to be him - until this morning. 

Today was my school's High School Senior Award Ceremony, and I had the honor of getting some dumb fucking ribbon that matters to nobody. So, I get up, get in my car, and halfway to school I start to feel it - a sore ass throat. I think it's just a general malady at first - I do smoke a lot of marihuana - but by the time I'm seated in the auditorium, I make a realization. I'm the guy in a zombie movie who gets bitten, says "I'm different!", and then turns out of the blue. I'm sitting in the auditorium right now, getting ready to accept my award. Will let you know how it goes. 

On Wristwatches

Watches are probably the second most controversial thing one can wear on their wrist. I've always been a fan of the wristwatch - they've got a solid utility and I find the weight reassuring - but I've come to find that each kind of watch comes with a collection of disappointing follies.

- The humble digital watch, while cheap and easy to read, is usually uncomfortable and unsightly. I have one that I wear for work, and it's always either too loose or too tight. Plus, it makes me look like a giant nerd of the "three-day-shower-gap" variety.

- The analog watch, often considered "The Classic Watch", is a great accessory for weddings and whatnot. But, they do have one major weak spot: Hell to wear. All the Premium Metal Construction means that wearing it usually involves some sort of clasp-situation that will never ever sit right on the wrist. I own one good analog watch, and even though I could get a link added, why the hell would I? [Note: I will not address the Swatch, as I am not 14 years old.] Plus, it makes me look like a giant nerd of the "pretentious-about-coffee" variety.

- The smart watch. Maybe one day, they'll make one of these that works well and doesn't look like shit. In the meanwhile, there's no way in hell I'm wearing a watch that I have to recharge every night. Plus, it would make me look like a nerd of the "has-opinions-about-Huawei" variety.

So this is my watch plight. I suppose I could suck it up and spend triple-digit money on a good, quality watch. I suppose I could just not wear a watch and leave my wrists unadorned. I'll paraphrase Linkin Park by saying that in the end, who gives a fuck?

On Home Media Servers

 I am ashamed to admit I am one of the most heinous of "guys": the "home media server guy". I've been this guy for over a year now, and it's only recently that it's started to bite me in the ass.

First, a bit of history. I started my Plex media server (ugh) in mid-2021. I have this desktop computer that I built when I was but a wean, and it had aged much too poorly to be of any real desktop computing use. The thing chugged along in performance, and the laptop that I had recently purchased made it look downright ancient. So, on a whim, I installed Plex on the desktop and started ripping DVDs. It was kind of the perfect storm - I had a sizable movie collection, had torrented a few TV shows, had started downloading MP3s, and was aching for a way to consume all of this on the go. So, I started a "home media server". It started small - just leaving Plex running on my desktop 24/7. But then, I unplugged the peripherals and set up a remote desktop software. After that, I transplanted it from my bedroom into the living room (don't worry, it's an exceedingly minor eyesore). Before you know it, I had it down to a science.

So here we are. Present day, present time. College is imminent, and the home media server has gotten to be much more of an issue. Obviously I can't bring it to my dorm - that's just not how the world works - but I don't trust my family enough to leave it with them. It would only be a matter of weeks before someone unplugs it, or bumps the power button with their toe, and then I'd have to face the humiliating endeavor of FaceTiming my little brother telling him to "plug that yellow wire there into the back of the modem". Maybe in a year or two, once I get a proper apartment, I'll pack everything up and it'll be A-OK. But until then, I'll just be hanging on a prayer.

B'rumes (Blog Rumes (Ruminations))

 I know I made a whole big thing with my friends about how I'm "gonna start a blog" as a "bit", but I hope that not a single one of them actually thought I followed through on that. I think blogs are best read years in post. Reading a blog as it updates is about as exciting as watching paint dry, or watching a Subway sandwich get digested. Reading a blog in retrospect is like watching a Jim Jarmusch movie or something. This is going to be the Real, Uncensored Me. Monologuing (Mono-blogging?) not unlike the protagonist of a 2010s teen movie. Look forward to it.

Hello World

 Independence is a dope sort of myth that everyone perpetrates so that parents can learn to fuck again and children can learn to become parents that can't fuck anymore.