On late nights like this, I write blog posts. These late nights being the nights where I shutter myself in my room and have a buzzing psychic energy that makes me psychologically unable to get into bed. If I watch a movie that is depressing, or is so happy in comparison to my life that I am depressed, this puts me in a powerful state. It is nights like these I am most driven to blog. What's the fun of happy blog posts, right? I describe this state as powerful because I often feel incredibly creative during these times. Not that I'm feeling terribly creative right now, but at least I'm writing something. I would usually try to write some lyrics. The trouble is it's too late to play guitar because other people have sleeping and shit to do. So I'm stuck with just lyrics. And I'm more likely to actually make a song when I'm writing the words with a guitar part I'm working out. Oh well. At least I get practice. And thinking done that may be used in future lyrics. And who knows? Maybe I could do some poetry stuff. Not that I have a whole lot of interest in poetry as an artform outside of its use as the basis for lyrics.
Anyways, tonight's story is as follows. I got home from frisbee. I bummed around the internet for a while. Then I watched the rest of Big Fan, a very good (albeit depressing) movie about a diehard football fan who is assaulted by his favorite player. For those of you possible dissuaded by its sports-relatedness, fear not. There is no actual football in the movie, and it stars Patton Oswalt (who is NOT a sports-loving kinda guy). FYI: It stars Patton Oswalt, but is not I repeat NOT a comedy.
But that left me in one of my moods. So I decided what better way to christen the occassion then putting on Get Lonely by the Mountain Goats and writing this blog post. (C'mon, it's called Get Lonely for cryin' out loud.) So yeah. That's where I am right now. Kinda a meta-blog post.
In other news, work on the EP is non-existent, but have no fear, fans (all NONE of you!), I finally have a free weekend this weekend. That means I can finally get around to doing the two things I desperatly need to do: Get some recording done and look for a goddamned job.
Yeah. A job. Apparently someone with my years and schooling is expected to begrudgingly engage in some arbitrary and pre-ordained activity in exchange for the life-giving money our bodies so desperately need. Fear not, folks, I'm not quitting my job. My job is quitting me in a fashion that was agreed upon when I took it. 'Twas a 1 year deal. Which is great, because I very much want to do some new and different things in a new and different place.
That's right a different place. Dear God do I need to get to a different place. Not that I have a strong distaste for the place I am in. I just need a new place. I have never spent more than two weeks outside of the New York/New England region in my ENTIRE LIFE. My boots are screamin' to hit the road. The leading candidate in my life search right now is Madison, Wisconsin. I've been there a couple times in the last year and it seems like just the change of pace I need to kick-start my stalling life. Also, it'll be nice to be somewhere completely different but have a couple friends around for support. I was originally thinking of moving somewhere where I knew no one, but then again I wanted to throw reason to the wind and try to support myself with music and a shitty job. I swear I'd have my head on straight if someone would just tell me what direction that is.
Back to the job thing. Yeah. I honestly don't know what I want to do. I want to put some money away. And not spend 40 hours a week plotting the death of myself or someone else. Also, reaching out and bringing people into something? Not my strong suit. I honestly don't really want to get a job. I just want to have money so that I can do other stuff, like eat and not default on my student loans. But yeah. Wannabe rock-star is not necessarily an employment market that is seeing a lot of need for new people. It's a tough field to really make yourself a name in, what with all the talentless bums clogging the works. I honestly don't know what I want to do with my life in any sort of realistic sense. This has been kinda on my mind ever since I wised up and realized working at Subway and aggressively trying to get my music off the ground was probably not the best career plan. I plan to reach into the tubes and pluck out some job ideas this weekend. We'll see how that goes.
So yeah. I was gonna write a blog post about my Phish weekend. Then all this other stuff rose to the top of my brain. Plus, since roughly NONE of my readers listen to Phish, any sort of delving into the details of the concerts would be like showing a dog a card trick. So I'll just say this: I had a fantastic time going out to see my favorite band. I got to hang out with some friends I only get to see at shows and rock out like a motherfucker to some great music, and exercise some snottiness about the parts that weren't quite as great. This weekend puts my Phish tally at 12 shows, which, for the uninformed, is just a drop in the bucket for many fans.
I think that's about all I've got in me tonight, blogwise. I think I might stay up a little while longer. I don't really have anything to do. There's just a mental barrier between me and that bed right next to me. Maybe I can read. Maybe not. We'll have to see.
Go with grace, Nick
Waved once at the highway and then left all that behind me