As it goes
First off, why the hell is there no water pressure in the bathrooms at the office. Secondly, how in the hell is it even remotely possible that management hasn't realized that only the barest of a trickle of moisture falls from the tap after the turning of a handle? Dudes, get the shit fixed! And while you're at it, how about we have some hot water in this buildinig?!?! Arrrrgh!
Now, on with real things of actual importance. I've been writing up a storm, and I'm actually getting paid to do it(!). Back in November I suddenly decided that "This sucks. I don't have any money. I can write. I can do freelance stuff just like I make art, and someone will give me a few bucks for it. Why am I not taking advantage of that? I want some work, NOW!"
Oh, it looks as if this got long!
After bitching about there "not being any of that kind of writing work out there" for several years, it took me all of about three days (maybe just one?) to find an ad for a place that was "looking for someone to write articles about motorcycles, 300-400 words each." It was an old ad, about a week old, and writing work disappears inside of 12 hours on the web. Still, it was right up my alley, and I figured that it wouldn't hurt to answer an ad that looked like it essentially had my damn name on it.
A week later, bang, I'm on it. Guy needs writing done, I say I can do it for his price, which isn't much, but better than those SEO sites are paying. I do a couple for him, he likes them, and we're off and running. He feeds me 20 terms a week related to bikes, and I do my damnedest to get 'em cranked out. It's a bit of a crunch, but I can do it. The first week I managed just three or four, second week was more like six or eight, and since then I've done 15, 20, and nineteen. This week will be a push with me going to the Moth in Chicago and recording for someone's album, but I'm going to grind it and see if I can keep the edge sharp anyway.
Reminds me: going to the Moth. Every heard of it? Here: http://www.themoth.org/ Storytelling at its finest! I heard about this back in November, but then on a road trip to Iowa the gf and I listened to it on her iPod. These things are awesome! You get, like, ten minutes to tell a story to the audience. It's a true life story. No rants, no poetry, no comedy acts - stories. Stories of people setting their apartments on fire, breaking up with long-time girlfriends, setting up pizza parlors with money from the mob, saving a guy's life in a broken elevator, flying into space as a civilian - you name it! I cannot WAIT to go to this thing! So stoked!
My friend who was going to go with me backed out. Money. I guess I can understand that, but it sucks. Not so much fun driving to Chicago for three hours with no radio in the car. And back...with no radio in the car. Oh well, worse things can happen. I have gas money, a cell phone, and a spare tire (with air in it!). I'm pretty well taken care of. Oh, and a credit card. I'm good to go.
I wish, however, that my old writing buddy, Adam, could go with me. We started writing together maybe five years ago. We had many good times just sitting down and writing together at my dining room table or his kitchen for an hour a week. I recall vividly telling him that I was frustrated, because back then sometimes that hour was the only writing I got done all week. We went to see Sarah Vowell do a reading together. We wrote descriptions of unnamed things. We collaborated on terrible exercises. We had dinners together. He got The Sun lit mag, and we both subsequently submitted there (neither got published).
Then he moved. After visiting San Francisco and being blown away by its numerous offerings of this, that, and the other thing (many of which were quite cool, honestly), he decided that he would be able to write more and fully invest his life in the pursuit of literary awesomeness in SF. I have since heard very little from him. I still have a couple voicemails from his trip out there (freakin' five years ago or something like that), and he's my friend on Facebook, but I don't ever hear from him. I think he works in financials now. Aside from one or two brief emails, that's all I know.
I belong to two writing groups in town. You would think that I'd be surrounded with people who are totally into this whole "writing thing," but even though I do have friends in said groups, none of those friendships are the kind of "let's get together and shoot the shit and write goofy stuff and go to the library and drink coffee and all that crap" kind of friendships. It just hasn't happened yet. You can't force that stuff, and so I wait. Sooner or later, hopefully, something like that will happen again, and then fun times will be had.
I should say, however, that my buddy Deb wants desperately to go, but her son is doing some rather awesome thing that evening, and she wants to be there for him. I've met her kid. He's cool. She's a good mom, bless her freakin' heart. I begrudge her this moment not one little bit.
Still, this is a road-trip opportunity of minor epic proportions. It'd be fun to take with a friend.
In other news, I had a job interview on Friday! Holy cats! Interview! For a writing job! WRITING! No, I'm not being offered the job of crafting a great storyline for a creepy video game that involves zombies, wolves, vampires, soldiers, nuclear attacks, aliens, a guy with a pyramid on his head, or Mickey Mouse and his plucky band of assistants, but still, writing. It's actually technical writing for software, to put it really shortly and simply, yet it is a lot closer to what I'd like to do with my life than what I'm currently doing. What is also cool is that I had to do some repeated follow-up to try and make the whole thing happen. I had to send out a resume when a friend let me know it was a possibility, and then I had to email repeatedly to check up on things when nothing happened over the course of another three or four weeks.
I have no idea if I'm going to get the job. I don't know if it's the kind of job I want, but I do know it's a lot more similar to the kind of job I want, and if the river flows my way, it will also be for a good bit more money than what I'm currently making, which kicks several kinds of ass most exuberantly.
I still have another sculpture to finish for my nephews. It was supposed to be done at Christmas. I need to write about motorcycles this week. I started another short story from a drafted idea yesterday, so I should work on that. I need to take a few trials at the TIG brazing thing, which I investigated at length last week, got some rod, but still have not had time to play with yet.
It never ends, dudes. I iz buzy. Good times, though.
Now, on with real things of actual importance. I've been writing up a storm, and I'm actually getting paid to do it(!). Back in November I suddenly decided that "This sucks. I don't have any money. I can write. I can do freelance stuff just like I make art, and someone will give me a few bucks for it. Why am I not taking advantage of that? I want some work, NOW!"
Oh, it looks as if this got long!
After bitching about there "not being any of that kind of writing work out there" for several years, it took me all of about three days (maybe just one?) to find an ad for a place that was "looking for someone to write articles about motorcycles, 300-400 words each." It was an old ad, about a week old, and writing work disappears inside of 12 hours on the web. Still, it was right up my alley, and I figured that it wouldn't hurt to answer an ad that looked like it essentially had my damn name on it.
A week later, bang, I'm on it. Guy needs writing done, I say I can do it for his price, which isn't much, but better than those SEO sites are paying. I do a couple for him, he likes them, and we're off and running. He feeds me 20 terms a week related to bikes, and I do my damnedest to get 'em cranked out. It's a bit of a crunch, but I can do it. The first week I managed just three or four, second week was more like six or eight, and since then I've done 15, 20, and nineteen. This week will be a push with me going to the Moth in Chicago and recording for someone's album, but I'm going to grind it and see if I can keep the edge sharp anyway.
Reminds me: going to the Moth. Every heard of it? Here: http://www.themoth.org/ Storytelling at its finest! I heard about this back in November, but then on a road trip to Iowa the gf and I listened to it on her iPod. These things are awesome! You get, like, ten minutes to tell a story to the audience. It's a true life story. No rants, no poetry, no comedy acts - stories. Stories of people setting their apartments on fire, breaking up with long-time girlfriends, setting up pizza parlors with money from the mob, saving a guy's life in a broken elevator, flying into space as a civilian - you name it! I cannot WAIT to go to this thing! So stoked!
My friend who was going to go with me backed out. Money. I guess I can understand that, but it sucks. Not so much fun driving to Chicago for three hours with no radio in the car. And back...with no radio in the car. Oh well, worse things can happen. I have gas money, a cell phone, and a spare tire (with air in it!). I'm pretty well taken care of. Oh, and a credit card. I'm good to go.
I wish, however, that my old writing buddy, Adam, could go with me. We started writing together maybe five years ago. We had many good times just sitting down and writing together at my dining room table or his kitchen for an hour a week. I recall vividly telling him that I was frustrated, because back then sometimes that hour was the only writing I got done all week. We went to see Sarah Vowell do a reading together. We wrote descriptions of unnamed things. We collaborated on terrible exercises. We had dinners together. He got The Sun lit mag, and we both subsequently submitted there (neither got published).
Then he moved. After visiting San Francisco and being blown away by its numerous offerings of this, that, and the other thing (many of which were quite cool, honestly), he decided that he would be able to write more and fully invest his life in the pursuit of literary awesomeness in SF. I have since heard very little from him. I still have a couple voicemails from his trip out there (freakin' five years ago or something like that), and he's my friend on Facebook, but I don't ever hear from him. I think he works in financials now. Aside from one or two brief emails, that's all I know.
I belong to two writing groups in town. You would think that I'd be surrounded with people who are totally into this whole "writing thing," but even though I do have friends in said groups, none of those friendships are the kind of "let's get together and shoot the shit and write goofy stuff and go to the library and drink coffee and all that crap" kind of friendships. It just hasn't happened yet. You can't force that stuff, and so I wait. Sooner or later, hopefully, something like that will happen again, and then fun times will be had.
I should say, however, that my buddy Deb wants desperately to go, but her son is doing some rather awesome thing that evening, and she wants to be there for him. I've met her kid. He's cool. She's a good mom, bless her freakin' heart. I begrudge her this moment not one little bit.
Still, this is a road-trip opportunity of minor epic proportions. It'd be fun to take with a friend.
In other news, I had a job interview on Friday! Holy cats! Interview! For a writing job! WRITING! No, I'm not being offered the job of crafting a great storyline for a creepy video game that involves zombies, wolves, vampires, soldiers, nuclear attacks, aliens, a guy with a pyramid on his head, or Mickey Mouse and his plucky band of assistants, but still, writing. It's actually technical writing for software, to put it really shortly and simply, yet it is a lot closer to what I'd like to do with my life than what I'm currently doing. What is also cool is that I had to do some repeated follow-up to try and make the whole thing happen. I had to send out a resume when a friend let me know it was a possibility, and then I had to email repeatedly to check up on things when nothing happened over the course of another three or four weeks.
I have no idea if I'm going to get the job. I don't know if it's the kind of job I want, but I do know it's a lot more similar to the kind of job I want, and if the river flows my way, it will also be for a good bit more money than what I'm currently making, which kicks several kinds of ass most exuberantly.
I still have another sculpture to finish for my nephews. It was supposed to be done at Christmas. I need to write about motorcycles this week. I started another short story from a drafted idea yesterday, so I should work on that. I need to take a few trials at the TIG brazing thing, which I investigated at length last week, got some rod, but still have not had time to play with yet.
It never ends, dudes. I iz buzy. Good times, though.