Oh LJ, you'll never be Facebook.
Thank FSM.
Cleaned the house a bit more this weekend. Had lunch with father and gave him a care package. Told him to find a house to rent and mail their house keys back to Chase, since that lovely bank is too big to re-finance their mortgage. If it wasn't for their mortgage, they could be in retirement by now. Theirs is just a single story among millions, and that is why the US is fucked. And yet, the US is still in a better position than most of the globe, so...really, the entire world is fucked. Doom doom doom.
In the process of cleaning out the house, Dee found some of my sketchbooks from back in the day. I used to be pretty damn funny and interesting, before I turned into an overweight cube dwelling code monkey. I'm still combating the weight gain, but my diet is still out of control. I need to write down a menu and stick to it. I'm also quite done and tired of summer and these 2-week long seasonal affective disorder cycles. I slept through much of Saturday, not by choice; my body simply shut down on me. So we're going to go on a road trip up through Utah to the pacific northwest, one of my favorite geographical locations in the whole wide world. I can't afford Europe, and I've never been beyond the borders outside of traveling between AK and AZ, but that's besides the point. Second week of August, we're planning.
Musically I've been constipated, and it sucks. There's no music metamucil I can take to cure it. In lieu of being musically or artistically inspired, I've decided to slog through my K&R C book some more. By slogging, I mean I'm actually writing all of the examples and running through the exercises at the end of each section. For some reason, I had a really difficult time wrapping my brain around a histogram program, and this is one of the exercises in the middle of the first chapter. I cheated and found somebody else's solution and thought, "why did I make this more difficult than it needs to be?" Onward, I slog. Maybe I don't have the mind to be a great programmer? Or maybe I just need to put a lot more effort into it. But that's time I could be spending on music.
The eternal struggle. Even this becomes a chore, though. Because I spend so much time at work devising solutions in BASH and python and yes, even PHP, at work and there's more to living than sitting at a goddamned computer terminal.
I lack that obsessive gene that all the greats have. I love music but I also love art and animation and graphic novels and cartoons and comedy and dabbling in everything. I loved animation because it sort of combined all of that into a type of universally understood artform. I'm not like Kobe Bryant where I obsessively pour over videos of basketball. I wank on my guitar pretty frequently, but I don't record every damn thing into some device like Dimebag Darrell or Ed Van Halen. My math and physics marks in college proved I'm definitely no Einstein or Oppenheimer.
On the other hand, there's no point in comparing myself to them.
Cleaned the house a bit more this weekend. Had lunch with father and gave him a care package. Told him to find a house to rent and mail their house keys back to Chase, since that lovely bank is too big to re-finance their mortgage. If it wasn't for their mortgage, they could be in retirement by now. Theirs is just a single story among millions, and that is why the US is fucked. And yet, the US is still in a better position than most of the globe, so...really, the entire world is fucked. Doom doom doom.
In the process of cleaning out the house, Dee found some of my sketchbooks from back in the day. I used to be pretty damn funny and interesting, before I turned into an overweight cube dwelling code monkey. I'm still combating the weight gain, but my diet is still out of control. I need to write down a menu and stick to it. I'm also quite done and tired of summer and these 2-week long seasonal affective disorder cycles. I slept through much of Saturday, not by choice; my body simply shut down on me. So we're going to go on a road trip up through Utah to the pacific northwest, one of my favorite geographical locations in the whole wide world. I can't afford Europe, and I've never been beyond the borders outside of traveling between AK and AZ, but that's besides the point. Second week of August, we're planning.
Musically I've been constipated, and it sucks. There's no music metamucil I can take to cure it. In lieu of being musically or artistically inspired, I've decided to slog through my K&R C book some more. By slogging, I mean I'm actually writing all of the examples and running through the exercises at the end of each section. For some reason, I had a really difficult time wrapping my brain around a histogram program, and this is one of the exercises in the middle of the first chapter. I cheated and found somebody else's solution and thought, "why did I make this more difficult than it needs to be?" Onward, I slog. Maybe I don't have the mind to be a great programmer? Or maybe I just need to put a lot more effort into it. But that's time I could be spending on music.
The eternal struggle. Even this becomes a chore, though. Because I spend so much time at work devising solutions in BASH and python and yes, even PHP, at work and there's more to living than sitting at a goddamned computer terminal.
I lack that obsessive gene that all the greats have. I love music but I also love art and animation and graphic novels and cartoons and comedy and dabbling in everything. I loved animation because it sort of combined all of that into a type of universally understood artform. I'm not like Kobe Bryant where I obsessively pour over videos of basketball. I wank on my guitar pretty frequently, but I don't record every damn thing into some device like Dimebag Darrell or Ed Van Halen. My math and physics marks in college proved I'm definitely no Einstein or Oppenheimer.
On the other hand, there's no point in comparing myself to them.