Even at 25, you gotta start sometime
It's funny... before getting it, I foresaw that having the internet at home would be a boon for updating my journal more often, amongst many things. Yet here I am, reluctantly putting up a post when I would rather just either do some mindless surfing or just lie down and dread work tomorrow.
Don't get me wrong, I don't see my journal as a bothersome chore, it's just that I'm still getting accustomed to the unfettered access to anything my heart so desires. I know, I'm about 10 years behind the curve on this feeling, but as I come from meager means, I do what I can and revel in the small joys the mainstream mass has already taken for granted and rely on more than a light switch.
Plus, another reason for my lack of update is because I didn't actually do much this weekend that has been deemed worthy of writing about. Suffice to say, I did DO things... for example; I went to Target and bought a really cool grey t-shirt with a fleur-de-lis print outlined in sparkly silver. I also purchased a turquoise-colored body pillow. Afterward, I went to Savers and bought a black and white football-styled (ie: stripes on the sleeves) raglan tee for $3. Not very exciting is it?
Anyway, yesterday I also went out with Devon, Chris, Cheyenne and Mikey in celebration of Chris' 26th birthday. We were joined by Ross and Kyle at the French Quarter for some light drinks and dinner. I was told that I should play my cards right and try to see if I could get Kyle interested in going out again or just abandon the pretense and wanna try for a nice fuck. Unfortunately, this wasn't so and the latter two gents bid us a good evening while they went off and did their thing after dinner.
The rest of the night was spent at this quaint little dive called The Music Box. It was for all intents and purposes a straight bar and featured a somewhat colorfully mixed crowd of patrons. Most of my time there was spent laughing at the hilariously preposterous moves and rhythms of the people out on the dance floor (or more accurately, the lack thereof).
A lot of the detail has escaped me as the day's progressed, but I do recall this one man whom I referred to as Mr. White Dockers (for obvious inappropriately bar-attired reasons, though in hindsight, I do believe they were beige). He and his four foot-nothing Asian date were very much the rug-cutters; much to their disregard for reason.
Why, you ask? Well, you see, Mr. White Dockers' idea of dancing was to shoot his ass out in a very haphazard manner while moving his torso down in a movement that I can best describe as being akin to those fake birds that are positioned on a glass that bob up and down for water. That's not all, folks. Included in his repertoire were these strange forearm thrusts that I swear came close belting his Asian girlfriend on more than one occasion. As for her, she has all the rhythm for the couple, hands down. Poor thing actually tried to arrest her date's very laughable moving by holding him while dancing, only to have him drum out the beat on her back.
My synopsis on their relationship was that she brought the moves, and he brought the citizenship. There's no other reason I can guess to for their being together. He couldn't have been drunk; for as shoddy as his dancing was, at least he wasn't falling over. He very well can't be hung like a tripod; he just didn't carry himself in that manner (plus; hello! Asian girlfriend!). And lastly, he couldn't be rich. Even for a dive bar, if he were moneyed, I think he would've made a better choice than white beige Dockers and a polo shirt.
But I've digressed...
As to the pressing matter of why I haven't done updating, one must look to the very recent past... my last entry and the one on the 16th, to be exact.
The preliminary broad strokes have already been painted on my webcomic brainchild. However, this only a drop in a bucket. I don't want to say I'm daunted, but after doing a lot of research (read: poring over the archives of Penny Arcade and VG Cats), I see that lots of work and software is needed for me to put my dream on computer screens worldwide.
I know that there's gonna need to be work involved. Naive would be selling it short if I failed to recognize the amount of dedication this will take. I am prepared to do so, for I feel that if I'm ever to share my creativity with the world, this is quite possibly my only way to do it.
My big hang-up is that I might not be in the right place physically for this to work... and I've mentioned this so many times that I don't even want to waste another keystroke saying what it is. Also, the fact that I would be only getting started at the ripe old age of 25 unnerves me. Other more established web artists have years on me! I mean, I feel 19, but my birth certificate assures me I was a child of '82. Age has always figured annoyingly in so many aspects of my life, I've come to find.
But then again, it could just be my regular cycle of doubt and despair at the wheel here.
We'll see. My earlier mention about dreading the return to work might've been a bit ill-spoken. I revel in the fact that I'm going to work; not only for the fact that that's where 99% of all my creative oeuvres have been at work, but because of the new schedule taking effect, I now go in an hour later! Hooray for more sleep!
To which I will see to in short order...
Note to self: Try to make contact with the gents at Hijinks Ensue to beseech their advice.
Don't get me wrong, I don't see my journal as a bothersome chore, it's just that I'm still getting accustomed to the unfettered access to anything my heart so desires. I know, I'm about 10 years behind the curve on this feeling, but as I come from meager means, I do what I can and revel in the small joys the mainstream mass has already taken for granted and rely on more than a light switch.
Plus, another reason for my lack of update is because I didn't actually do much this weekend that has been deemed worthy of writing about. Suffice to say, I did DO things... for example; I went to Target and bought a really cool grey t-shirt with a fleur-de-lis print outlined in sparkly silver. I also purchased a turquoise-colored body pillow. Afterward, I went to Savers and bought a black and white football-styled (ie: stripes on the sleeves) raglan tee for $3. Not very exciting is it?
Anyway, yesterday I also went out with Devon, Chris, Cheyenne and Mikey in celebration of Chris' 26th birthday. We were joined by Ross and Kyle at the French Quarter for some light drinks and dinner. I was told that I should play my cards right and try to see if I could get Kyle interested in going out again or just abandon the pretense and wanna try for a nice fuck. Unfortunately, this wasn't so and the latter two gents bid us a good evening while they went off and did their thing after dinner.
The rest of the night was spent at this quaint little dive called The Music Box. It was for all intents and purposes a straight bar and featured a somewhat colorfully mixed crowd of patrons. Most of my time there was spent laughing at the hilariously preposterous moves and rhythms of the people out on the dance floor (or more accurately, the lack thereof).
A lot of the detail has escaped me as the day's progressed, but I do recall this one man whom I referred to as Mr. White Dockers (for obvious inappropriately bar-attired reasons, though in hindsight, I do believe they were beige). He and his four foot-nothing Asian date were very much the rug-cutters; much to their disregard for reason.
Why, you ask? Well, you see, Mr. White Dockers' idea of dancing was to shoot his ass out in a very haphazard manner while moving his torso down in a movement that I can best describe as being akin to those fake birds that are positioned on a glass that bob up and down for water. That's not all, folks. Included in his repertoire were these strange forearm thrusts that I swear came close belting his Asian girlfriend on more than one occasion. As for her, she has all the rhythm for the couple, hands down. Poor thing actually tried to arrest her date's very laughable moving by holding him while dancing, only to have him drum out the beat on her back.
My synopsis on their relationship was that she brought the moves, and he brought the citizenship. There's no other reason I can guess to for their being together. He couldn't have been drunk; for as shoddy as his dancing was, at least he wasn't falling over. He very well can't be hung like a tripod; he just didn't carry himself in that manner (plus; hello! Asian girlfriend!). And lastly, he couldn't be rich. Even for a dive bar, if he were moneyed, I think he would've made a better choice than white beige Dockers and a polo shirt.
But I've digressed...
As to the pressing matter of why I haven't done updating, one must look to the very recent past... my last entry and the one on the 16th, to be exact.
The preliminary broad strokes have already been painted on my webcomic brainchild. However, this only a drop in a bucket. I don't want to say I'm daunted, but after doing a lot of research (read: poring over the archives of Penny Arcade and VG Cats), I see that lots of work and software is needed for me to put my dream on computer screens worldwide.
I know that there's gonna need to be work involved. Naive would be selling it short if I failed to recognize the amount of dedication this will take. I am prepared to do so, for I feel that if I'm ever to share my creativity with the world, this is quite possibly my only way to do it.
My big hang-up is that I might not be in the right place physically for this to work... and I've mentioned this so many times that I don't even want to waste another keystroke saying what it is. Also, the fact that I would be only getting started at the ripe old age of 25 unnerves me. Other more established web artists have years on me! I mean, I feel 19, but my birth certificate assures me I was a child of '82. Age has always figured annoyingly in so many aspects of my life, I've come to find.
But then again, it could just be my regular cycle of doubt and despair at the wheel here.
We'll see. My earlier mention about dreading the return to work might've been a bit ill-spoken. I revel in the fact that I'm going to work; not only for the fact that that's where 99% of all my creative oeuvres have been at work, but because of the new schedule taking effect, I now go in an hour later! Hooray for more sleep!
To which I will see to in short order...
Note to self: Try to make contact with the gents at Hijinks Ensue to beseech their advice.