A Treatise On, Like, Whatever.
Six months have passed since I last regaled this humble corner of the internet with news of my heroic doings; autumn and winter are over, and I'm now sitting outside with some microwaved Pad Thai and a pack of cigarettes in lovely California sunshine. So hearken unto me, and I will share with you what has been up.
A few weeks ago I started seeing a therapist (a good one, that doesn't constantly talk about Ayn Rand and weird psychological experiments in the '70s that have nothing to do with anything) which has helped a lot with my anxiety. I haven't had a full-blown panic attack in months, and while I still get smaller anxiety attacks, they seem to at the very least be getting easier to deal with. I just need to learn to tell my parasympathetic nervous system to shape up and fuck right off.
The last week of February I went to see Henry Rollins at the Coronet in Hollywood, which was insanely awesome. The Coronet is this old-timey-Hollywood theater on La Cienega from I think the 1930s, it's really small (like, about the size of a middle school auditorium) but it has a really cool vibe. I somehow managed to wrangle a seat right in the front row, about 3 feet from the stage which amplified the awesome several times. The show was about 2 1/2 hours long, and he talked mostly about politics and traveling with some random stories about LA in the 80s mixed in, it was really funny and by the end I was wishing it could have gone on longer.
I've been going into LA pretty often recently, and I really regret that for so long I didn't have the balls to drive there myself. Last weekend Nathan and I spent a couple hours wandering around Santa Monica, listening to the street musicians and the various spoken word stylings of a few very loud homeless people. It's weird, because most of the time I've lived here all I've wanted to do is leave and move back to North Carolina. I hated everything, the brown hills, the beige sprawl of tacky suburbs, and I seriously considered just not coming back from NC when I go next week even if it meant living under a bridge. I don't know, maybe it's because of that, but I've really started to appreciate LA recently. I kind of like the heat and griminess, even the constant traffic and crowds of people. Where else can you buy a vegan tofu burrito from a truck off the street and then listen to a dude dressed as a caveman yell about how Barack Obama is his long lost father?
Still, I'm excited about going back to NC next week, seeing old friends, getting drunk, etc etc. I'm not all that excited about the prospect of a layover in Baltimore and going through the happy-naked-funtime scanners at airport security, but oh well.
A few weeks ago I started seeing a therapist (a good one, that doesn't constantly talk about Ayn Rand and weird psychological experiments in the '70s that have nothing to do with anything) which has helped a lot with my anxiety. I haven't had a full-blown panic attack in months, and while I still get smaller anxiety attacks, they seem to at the very least be getting easier to deal with. I just need to learn to tell my parasympathetic nervous system to shape up and fuck right off.
The last week of February I went to see Henry Rollins at the Coronet in Hollywood, which was insanely awesome. The Coronet is this old-timey-Hollywood theater on La Cienega from I think the 1930s, it's really small (like, about the size of a middle school auditorium) but it has a really cool vibe. I somehow managed to wrangle a seat right in the front row, about 3 feet from the stage which amplified the awesome several times. The show was about 2 1/2 hours long, and he talked mostly about politics and traveling with some random stories about LA in the 80s mixed in, it was really funny and by the end I was wishing it could have gone on longer.
I've been going into LA pretty often recently, and I really regret that for so long I didn't have the balls to drive there myself. Last weekend Nathan and I spent a couple hours wandering around Santa Monica, listening to the street musicians and the various spoken word stylings of a few very loud homeless people. It's weird, because most of the time I've lived here all I've wanted to do is leave and move back to North Carolina. I hated everything, the brown hills, the beige sprawl of tacky suburbs, and I seriously considered just not coming back from NC when I go next week even if it meant living under a bridge. I don't know, maybe it's because of that, but I've really started to appreciate LA recently. I kind of like the heat and griminess, even the constant traffic and crowds of people. Where else can you buy a vegan tofu burrito from a truck off the street and then listen to a dude dressed as a caveman yell about how Barack Obama is his long lost father?
Still, I'm excited about going back to NC next week, seeing old friends, getting drunk, etc etc. I'm not all that excited about the prospect of a layover in Baltimore and going through the happy-naked-funtime scanners at airport security, but oh well.